
Class JH3.2>So2l_ 

Book .T^?i'^Q s- 

Ccpiglitlj* \^gk\ 



GQEOUGHT DEPOSm 




J. L. BROWN 



ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

FROM THE CHAIN OF 
THOUGHT 




BY JrfDf "BROWN 

Author of 

"BROWN SCRAPS" and 

"SEA OF GLASS MINGLED WITH FIRE" 



PRICE $1.50 



Journal Printing Company 

NEWARK, ARK 






Copyright 1921 
BY J. L. BROWN 
Walnut Grove, Arkansas 



DEC -6 i92l 

©nU654605 



^# / 



A Chain of Thought 

What is a book on which you look 

In pleasure or disdain, 

But links of thought by the writer brought 

From the forge of the thinking brain? 

They may be long, they may be strong, 
They may be iron, or gold. 
In message or song — short or long 
The thought of the thinker they hold. 

How the forge is run, or the link is done 
No one can truly say; 
But the mind will think — link by link, 
The chain is made that way. 

It may be said there's gold and lead. 

Each in the thinker's brain. 

And the metal we use when giving our views 

Makes a dull, or a brilliant chain. 

May He who holds in His hand the gold 
Give grace to the writer's brain, 
That the thought he thinks — be pure links 
In a strong and golden chain. 

May all who look inside this book 
From it some pleasure gain. 
May every link help them to think : 
If so, 'tis not in vain. 



ONE HUNDRED LINKS 
WHY I WRITE 

I do not write for fashion. 
And I do not write for pelf, 
Or to gratify a passion 
To glorify myself. 

I write because I want to write 
To give some soul a thought. 
My mind for thoughts is fishing 
So I send the fish Fve caught. 

I do not write for money, 
No one will pay me cash. 
Some count my writings funny 
While others count them trash. 

Some refuse to read them; 
They estimate them low. 
Well if they do not need them. 
They ought to let them go. 

While others who have tasted. 
Have eaten with delight; 
They count the time not wasted 
When they read the things I write. 

'Tor folks have different taste, you know," 
Said he who kissed the cow. 
This may be true with me or you 
So I'll write anyhow. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 

The seeds of thought I scatter 
Like the hand that soweth grain, 
Must fall on minds of batter — ? 
Or on sober thinking brain. 

-i^ '■ 



THE BIRTH OF DAY 

The shadows hung so deep so eool ; 

The shadows of the night. 
No croaking frog disturbed the pool, 

No songbird sped in flight. 
It seemed the breeze among the trees, 

Had fallen fast asleep. 
The wind's loud roar was heard no more. 

The stillness was so deep. 

A distant star shone from afar, 

Along the Eastern w^ay. 
Angel of night, with torch of light 

To meet the king of day. 
Then came the hoot of the feathered owl. 

From the swamp tree far away. 
Then came the crow of barn yard fowl, 

And the watch dog's distant bay. 

The next is heard twitter of bird 

Amid the forest trees. 
That move and shake and seem to wake 

The one time sleeping breeze. 



8 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

That starts off slow to blow, and blow 

'Cross forest, field and lake. 
It breathes its song to all along 

That all may hear and wake. 

The whippoorwill calls from the hill, 

Ihe fog shows in the glen. 
The crow of cock, the strike of clock. 

Calls out to sleeping men. 
Beneath the star that fades afar 

There spreads a field of gray. 
Chili goes the night, still comes the light — 

There's born another day. 



GIVE ME A COUNTRY HOME 

Give me a place by the country side 

Where the woods are green, and the fields are 

wide, 
Where 'he sun and shade play seek and hide 
As they skip across the plain. 
Where the deep blue skies with star-lit dome 
LiJce a bow of promise arch the home. 
While the wind tossed clouds drift and roam 
Like air ships sifting rain. 

Where hills and mountains cast their shade 
Across tlie forest, fields, and glade. 
And I he river runs like a silver braid 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 9 

To bind them all in one. 
Wnere forest trees in garments green, 
Shelter the road that runs between, 
On which the wandering herds are seen 
When the sultry day is done. 

Give me the house with wooden wall 
With broad cool porch and spacious hall. 
With vine-clad trees that shadow all 
From heat of summer sun, 
Where the creeping vine climbs up to cling 
To the drooping limbs that sweep and swing 
In which the wild birds build and sing 
Till summer days are done. 



SPRING 

Oh come to us spring. 
We are waiting for you, 
We wish for the thing 
We know you will do, 
We long for your sun and your showers. 

Oh, take away frost, 
And give us night dew, 
Take the gray skies, 
And give us bright blue 
And brighten the earth with your flowers. 



10 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Let south winds flutter, 
Through forest and glade, 
Let wild brooks sputter 
Through sunshine and shade 
As they dance on their march to the sea. 

Let nature wake up 
After sleepng so long, 
With her bright buttercup 
And a blue bird's sweet song 
And the hum and the buzz of the bee. 

f^ 



THE FIELD OF LIFE 

Life is a field with such a soil 

That naught it yields without the toil 

Of brain, of heart, of hand; 
And he who fails this law to heed 
Will live to know, and feel his need, 
He'll find but thistle, thorn or weed. 

Will grow upon his land. 
For He who made the field hath said 
In sweat of face we eat our bread. 

And man hath found it <,o, 

Man breaks the soil and sows the seed, 
That Nature's sun and rain must feed, 
For Nature knows the things they need 
To make them live and grow. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 11 

God works with man and man with God, 
On sea, or air, or turf ted sod. 

In nature and in grace; 
Man plows the soil and sows the seed, 
God gives the sun and rain to feed, 
So each one thus supplies a need — 

Each working in his place. 

So God has given man a mind 

With which to think, to know, to find. 

The thing that's wrong or true. 
Man may select the seed to sow. 
To grow the crop he wants to grow — 
A crop of weal or one of woe — 

The rest will Nature do. 
With Summer heat and Winter snow, 
The years so fleet will come and go. 

Till all shall see the throne. 
God on the throne as white as snow. 
With open book, will read, and show. 
Then every living soul shall know 

They reap what they have sown. 
Stop now, my brother, where you stand, 
Look at the seed now in your hand — 

Please look before you sow — 
If they are bad, cast them away. 
Wait not until that bitter day 
When He upon the throne will say: 

"You now must reap your woe.'' 



12 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

FATE OR GOD 

Do mortals know, or is it so, 
That life's a plan fixed on a chart, 
And that a hand wrote out the plan 
Long ages 'fore this world did start, 
That every thought and word and deed 
Is but a cog within this wheel, 
And do we learn that it must turn 
To make us think, or act, or feel. 

Is that great wheel — the wheel of fate, 
That turns in heaven, earth and hell; 
Must men and angels on it wait, 
And demons move beneath it's spell? 
Is there in this great universe, 
A living force, a moving power, 
To help one dodge a coming curse, 
Or grasp a blessing in his hour? 

If there's no intervening power, 

Then each must bide his time to start 

As wise or fool, to fill the rule 

As stated for him. on the chart. 

Man is then but a helpless worm. 

Helpless to walk, to run, or fly. 

To whom fate gives the right to squirm, 

To live, to suffer, and to die. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 13 

Without a way to change his day, ' 
Control his action, or his state. 
And though he may desire or pray. 
He'll find no listening ears on fate; 
Each man, and beast, and bud, and bloom 
Must rise, or fall, at fate's decree. 
And from the cradle to the tomb 
There is no freedom— none are free. 

Oh take away this thought from me, — 
There is a God, and he is just; 
Fate has no iron bound decree. 
Tis God, not fate, in whom we trust ; 
He watches all in earth and sky: 
He notes each sparrow in its fall. 
He hears His children when they cry, 
And sheds His mercy over all. 

Then do not talk of dark decrees. 
That life is planned and manned by such; 
Such doctrine might some devil please, 
To help him hold his fiendish clutch 
On some poor, lost, benighted soul 
That worships at the shrine of fate 
And blindly misses life's true goal 
Until he cries, too late ! too late ! ! 



14 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

BEAUTY 

We can divine, if not define 

The spirit form of beauty. 

WeVe seen and felt the magic powers 

That's kept and swept us thru the hours; 

^ur homage is but duty. 
A queen she reigns o'er sea and plain, 
Her steps are everywhere ; 
The bending heaven swings her form, 

The laughing earth sings of her charm, 
^hat echoes far and near. 
The sunbeams hold her threads of gold. 
Her silver slippers tread the sea, 

While moonbeams glimmer with the light 
And dance upon the fields of night 
Jn fancy full and free. 
Beauty we find in soul arid mind. 

Well as in things material ; 
Soul beauty is the spirit's charm, 
Mind beauty is the thoughts that swarm ; 
Such beauty is etherial. 

Though Beauty's birth was not on earth 
She to the earth was given ; 
Shimmering on angel wing 
Quivering in songs they sing, 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 15 

She fills the courts of heaven. 
Her many forms here pass away, 
Sweet forms that brought us gladness; — _ 
So soon they fade and fall in death, 

Like summer's flowers 'neath winter's 

breath 
To leave the soul in sadness. 
There is a world where Beauty's charm 

Is forever given ; 

Where flowers bloom without decay, 
And those we love pass not away — 
Beauty lasts in Heaven. 

W 



THE MAN UP A TREE 

Text— Luke 19 :4. "And he ran before and 
climbed up into a sycamore tree to see him for 
he was to pass that way.'' 

Come now, dear friends, and list' to me 
About this man who climbed this tree. 
Things in his life we ought to know — 
These are the things we want to show: 
What was his name and what his station, 
What was his life, his occupation, 
What did he think, what did he do. 
And was he false, or was he true? 



16 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Zaccheus was this small man's name, 
For this we don't know who's to blame ; 
'Twas doubtless given by his mother, 
Father, sister, aunt or brother. 

It is the man and not the name 

That counts for something in life's game. 

A name's a worthless thing, you know, 

Unless the owner makes it so. 

A wise man's name put on a fool 

Is like a horsehide on a mule; 

And though you you shear his mane away. 

It will not change his brain nor bray ; 

And though the horsehide be his choice, 

The folks will know him by his voice. 

And so a rose is just the same 

If called by any other name. 

Though names are things of which some brag 

Yet they but serve us as a tag. 

Fixed on each one when life doth start 

So that we may be known apart. 

Your name differs from your brother, 

So we know you from each other. 

History would be as dark as myth 

If everybody's name was Smith. 

The tag is on so many fixed 

We sometimes now do get them mixed. 

A Smith lives in every town — ? 

Somewhere close to Jones or Brown. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 17 

ril tell you if you never knew 
That Zaccheus was a Jew; 
You do not wonder then when told 
That this man made a lot of gold, 
For making money is no new 
Characteristic of the Jew. 
For Abraham, a Jew of old, 
Had his servants, flocks, and gold; 
And Jacob knew to make and keep 
And beat old Laban out of sheep ; 
These old cunning tricks now had he 
When he beat his old blind daddy. 

But he learned them of his mother 
When she helped him cheat his brother. 
And even now some Jews we meet 
Who seem inclined to want to cheat. 
AVe need not think because we've been 
With some slick Jew and lost our skin 
That every Jew we chance to meet 
Is born a liar and a cheat. 
Everyone is not that way 
For we find honest Jews today: 
Isaac, Jacob, Nath and Ben 
Oft we find are honest men. 

Zacchaes was one of the band 
Who gathered taxes in that land. 
And that office more than others 



18 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Made Jews hated by their brothers; 
For in wrath a Jew would wax 
The reason why, you understr-nd, 
It helped support the Roman band. 
They could not keep their cash at home, 
They had to send a part to Rome. 
The Jews all thought (and sometimes true) 
The Publican the meanest Jew. 

Because he helped the king of Rome 
To rob and plunder Jews at home ; 
They shunned him at each feast or dinner, 
And ranked him with a Gentile sinner. 
No wonder then they all did whine 
When Christ went home with one to dine ; 
They thought for teachers 'twas a sin 
To mix or mingle with them then. 
I tell you this that you may know 
How Zacchaeus lived at Jerico. 
And though this Jew was in this role. 
As man he knew he had a soul, 

A soul to live in hell or heaven, 

A soul with sins to be forgiven. 

No doubt he'd read in God's own word, 

And in its teachings he had heard 

Of a coming great Messiah, 

As fuller's soap, refiner's fire, 

To purge his people from their sin 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 19 

And make man pure and clean again, 
That he would take the sightless ball 
And let the light into it fall, 
And thus remove the bands of night 
And give the blind man back his sight; 

That he would touch the deaf man's ear 
And that the touch would make him hear ; 
And to the lame that self same touch 
Would make him throw aside his crutch; 
That he would bless the starving poor, 
And break aw^ay the prison door, 
And break the fetter and the chain 
And set the prisoner free again ; 
He'd make the clouds drop down their rain, 
To water mountains, hill, and plain; 
Where hateful thorn and briars show 
He'd make the fir and myrtle grow; 

That death itself subdued must stand 
And yield its power to his hand, 
When the still heart and lifeless brain 
Y/ould throb with love and thought again. 
So when he heard of Jesus' name, 
And of his power and his fame. 
The story of his wondrous birth, 
When angels sang their songs to earth, 
And the wise men from afar. 
Led to him by the mystic star 



20 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

That hung and spread its silver light 
Across the azure fields of night. 

How into the sea he drove the swine, 

And turned cold water into wine; 

Of how he m ade the leper clean, 

And demons cast from Magdaline ; 

Of how he made the lame to walk, 

And gave the dumb a tongue to talk, 

And spake into the deaf, dead ear 

And gave it power his word to hear ; 

From madness made a mortal free, 

And calmed the tempest on the sea, 

And to a weeping soul in Nain 

Gave back her boy in life again. .;/ 

No doubt this Jew forgot his gold . •, 

When this good news to him was told ; 

His soul within him burned as fire, \ 

Surely this is the true Messiah, 

For everything he does, I note, " ^ 

Are things of which the prophets wrote; 

No man can do such work this hour 

Unless our God supplies the power. 

This day he comes to Jerico, 

I'll see him for myself and know. 

Great multitudes that day went out 

To see the Master on his route; 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 21 

Some went to buy, some went to sell, 
Some went to cry, some went to yell, 
While some went out to see and hear, 
While many went without a care ; 
Some doubltess went to Jerico 
Because their neighbors did, you know; 
Some folks have such dull minds, it's so 
They gather nothing where they go. 
But Zacchaeus had a mind 
With which he did true knowledge find. 
So with the multitude he went, 
Upon this glorious purpose bent 

That he the sum of truth might find 
To ease his heart and please his mind. 
This small, rich Jew (and perhaps proud) 
Was just a mortal in this crowd 
Which crowded porch and street and lane, 
A view of Jesus to obtain. 
As he in stature was so small 
He could not see the Lord at all. 
Some would push and some would shove him, 
Each one stood a head above him ; 
Disappointment he would meet 
If he remained down in the street. 

But he never sulled or pouted. 
Neither was his purpose routed. 
The truth was then just as today, 



22 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

When will's with men they find a way. 
He had the will the Lord to see, 
He found the way was climb a tree; 
And so he ran along before 
And climbed up in a sycamore. 
Perhaps this little Jew felt proud 
While seated up above the crowd. 
Some might have laughed in fun or scorn 

To see him run and climb that morn ; 
They may have called out, ''See, oh see, 
There goes Zacchaeus up a tree, 
Watch him climb with all his riches. 
Give him time, he'll tear his breeches; 
When they are torn he will look funny, 
But he'll soon mend them with our money; 
What careth he to tear his clothes. 
Our taxes paid for them he knows." 
But cared he naught for words of scorn 
If he could see the Lord that morn. 
He saw the Lord, the Lord saw him. 

While he perhaps sat on a limb ; 
The Lord while standing on the ground 
Gave him the word to hasten down. 
This commandment did not grieve him, 
For the Lord did thus receive him. 
There his heart gave up its sadness. 
There his soul was filled with gladness; 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 23 

Gold was dross and honor clay 
Since salvation came that day; 
He no longer seeks to roam, 
Christ, the Lord is in his home, 
Ruling out all greed and strife. 

Filling it with seeds of life — 

Seeds that into action shoot. 

Showing their nature in their fruit. 

For this son of Abraham 

Had salvation, not a sham. 

Had salvation that could talk. 

Had salvation that could walk; 

He^s a selfish Jew no more. 

But ready now to help the poor ; 

He^ll give the tenth and five times more. 

Half his goods he'll give the poor. 

Now you men who said he stole. 

Walk ye up and get four fold. 
Get your dollars, get your cost. 
Four for every one you lost; 
If you don't then it's implied 
When you said he stole you lied ; 
If you did, then, don't you see, 
You're a meaner man than he; 
For the world holds the belief 
A liar's meaner than a thief. 



24 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Look, oh look upon this Jew, 
Hear him tell what he will do: 
If a thief, he's one no more. 

Now he's honest to the core. 
Salvation did to him impart 
A generous and an honest heart ; 
And men who now salvation claim 
Are called upon to show the same ; 
And he who claims the same without it 
Gives the folks a chance to doubt it. 
Now, my friends, I say to you, 
I commend this little Jew; 
Many things in him we see 
That are good for you and me ; 
You, like him should seek to be 

(Though you need not climb a tree) 
Have a mind and will that's true. 
Do the things you need to do. 
Seek the Lord with heart and n ind. 
Seek him till the Lord you find ; 
Listen ^o his word — his voice, 
Let his purpose be your choice ,- 
Take him to your heart, your home, 
Let the world know he has come; 
Help the world as best you can. 
Be a generous, honest man. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 25 

THEY 

She learned to play her music, 
She learned to sweetly sing; 
But about housekeeping, 
She never learned a thing. 

She married her a caddy 
That she caught upon her hook, 
They lived with his old daddy 
And his mother had to cook. 

The old one tired of cooking. 
At last put in her say. 
These young folks so good looking, 
Had to fix and move away. 

And now she plays her music, 
And it makes her husband cry; 
Not when he hears her music. 
But when he eats her pie ; 

Which has but little inwards 
But a burned and ragged crust. 
Which swells his indigestion 
And makes him nearly "bust." 



The Devil is always ready to help a man into 
trouble, but never to help him out. 



26 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

EQUINOX 

The sun has slept behind the cloud, 
The cold sprino- rain is falling, 
The rooster crows but not so loud ; 
The winter calf is bawling. 

We think of yesterday so warm 
The day so bright and sunny, 
And how old nature drops her charm ; 
This change is not so funny ; 

For spring with flowers in her gown 
Will dance around us lightly, 
Then old winter with a frown 
Will grip and hug us tightly. 

The bird will have to stop her song 
The cow stay oif the clover, 
For some cold days will hop along 
Till Equinox is over. 

—March 22, 1921. 



.||. 



FEBRUARY 

January, j'-ou must go 

With your winter wind and snow. 

February, like a queen, 

Comes along and slips between 

Winter's freeze and snow and mud, 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 27 

Springtime's breeze and glow and bud, 
Winter's frost and fog and gloom, 
Springtime's song of frog and bloom ; 
So of this month it may be said, 
It's 'twixt the living and the .dead. 
It is to us the time of year 
That sounds the resurrection near. 



APtllL 

You come to see us, yes you do. 

About this time I think each year. 

Your nights are warm, your skies are blue, 
You smile a smile — then weep a tear. 

Life is made brighter by the smile 
And also better by the tear; 

You'll leave us in a little while. 
And stay away another year. 

The tears you shed will not be dead. 

The smiles you gave will not be wasted 

Your tears will stay to freshen May, 

Your smiles in summer fruit be tasted. 



Where the Bible says. Beware of dogs, it 
means two-legged — not four legged ones. 



28 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE POWER OF THOUGHTS 
IN WORDS 

A word spoken in due season ; how good it is. 
—Proverbs 15:23. 

The Lord hath given me the tongue of the 
learned that I should know how to speak a 
word in season to him that is weary. — Isaiah 
50:4. 

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in 
pictures of silver. — Proverbs 25:11. 

A wholesome tongue is a tree of life. — Pro- 
verbs 15 :4. 

A word is a cage — from age to age. 

To bear the soul of a thought; 
And a writer's pen in the hands of men 

Is used when the cage is wrought. 

The thinker may die, the pen may lie 

In silence and in rust, 
But the thought of brain will still remain 

When the brain has gone to dust. 

As your thoughts endure, let your words be 
pure, 

That carry your thoughts along. 
Carve out by pen a message to men 

That will make them happy and strong. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 29 

WE HOPE 

That demon war whose hellish spears 
That have been bathed in blood and tears 
Will cease to gleam mid light of sun 
In hand of Ally or of Hun._ 

That earth shall hear no never more 
The black month cannon's deadly roar 
That helps the ranks of dead to swell 
With its death dealing bursting shell. 

God send the husband back to wife, 
And save the fathers, spare their life 
And give the mother back her son; 
And let this wasting war be done. 

—A. D. 1918. 



■W- 



THAT FRIEND OF MINE 

In old time days we stood as friends 

From week to week; 
But now his ways around mine bends. 

He will not speak. 

I write him oft, he answers not 

By word or sign ; 
It seems that me he has forgot, 

This friend of mine. 



30 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

You ask me why he treats me so? 

I answer then : 
He came to me six months ago, 

I lent him ten ; 

And now he scorns me day by day, 

And goes along, 
All just because I want my pay; 

Now is that wrong? 

There are some folks we never know. 
Though oft we've met. 

Until said folks shall chance to owe 
To us a debt. 



■W- 



MAY 

This beautiful day belongs to May, 

And May is a part of Spring; 

And Spring is the time when nature sublime 

Is a wondrous beautiful thing. 

Her garments are new — 'neath her sky so blue, 

Her forest wears robes of green ; 

Her song birds sing — to the goddess of Spring; 

Her lakes are a silver sheen — 

The touch of her power — doth open the flower 

With the kiss of the morning sun 

Her song birds sing where wild vines cling. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 31 

And the mountain rivulets run. 

She sweetly sings of wonderful things, 

And there is joy in her tune 

That charms with delight — The shadows of 

night 
That dance 'neath the silver moon, 

There is joy in the sky that reaches so high, 

As it smiles through the stars of light. 

There is joy and glee on the deep blue sea 

That sings in the winds of night 

There is joy and light on the mountain high, 

AS me Clouds creep o'er its breast; 

There is joy mid the trees, in the twilight 

breeze 
That blows from the golden west. 

There is joy and mirth in the spirit of earth 

That sings through the night and day; 

She ever will sing to the goddess of Spring, 

And her beautiful daughter May. 

Let us join today with the spirit of May; 

Let us never be gloomy and sad. 

Let us drink in the power of sunbeam and 

flower, 
To make us laugh and be glad. 

—May 1920. 



32 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

SIXTY-THIRD BIRTHDAY 

December 7, 1916 

Old Father Time who walks about 
With sickle on his shoulder, 

Who tells the folks when years run out 
That they are one year older, 

Has come this winter day to me 
Though it is warm and sunny, 

And tells me I am sixty-three — 

It seems more strange than funny. 

Sixty-three brief years have fled, — 

The thought is most appalling, — 
Since I a tiny babe in bed 

Lay kicking and a squalling. 
And now Fm sixty-three years young, 

As bright and warm as June, Sir, 
That's the way I want it sung. 

And don't you change the tune. Sir. 

Vm sorter sad and sorter glad. 

That I can count that number ; 
Life has its smiles, for little whiles 

Between the clouds that somber; 
We lose and gain, about the same 

Of happiness, and sorrow; 
We see the light in every night. 

In hope of a coming tomorrow. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 33 

Our riches most, consist of friends, 

The best of riches given, 
We'll leave a group when life shall end 

And meet a group in heaven. 
If I could tread life's trail again, 

I don't believe Fd tread it. 
To think about it's grief and pain, 

Would rather make me dread it. 

Most of my battles have been fought, 

I've sinned and I've repented. 
If I'm not thankful — sure I ought 

To be — and be contented ; 
I'll make the most of what I have. 

In hours of life's declining. 
For autumn has its golden-rods, 

And twilight stars that's shining. 

And so the autumn of life's year 

May boast its golden flowers, 
And stars of gladness may appear 

To light life's evening hours. 
So thank the Lord for sweet old age. 

With pleasures undiminished , 
May life's book have a bright clean page 

Clear on until it's finished. 

iQ 



If you are living too fast, stop the clock. 



34 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

BIRTHDAY GIFT 

The morn that I was sixty-three, 
My daughter gave a gift to me, 
A gift on which I like to look, 
A good, a clean, a funny book. 
She knew the kind of book to get: 
She got me one that "Riley writ." 

We both were born in fifty-three. 

He is two months older though, than me, 

We never met nor knew each other, 

Yet he seems to me a brother ; 

He's passed away — I am here yet. 

To read the lines that "Riley writ." 

Though cold and silent with the dead. 
His loving words by men are read; 
Such was the power of his pen 
Through which he sent his thoughts to men 
Such brlliant thoughts they won't forget, 
Those brilliant thoughts that "Riley writ." 

His was the gift, to say the best. 

To make men laugh, to help them rest, 

To put a smile upon their lip. 

To give their hand a firmer grip; 

Strength, fun and courage, all may get 

Out the things Jim "Riley writ."' 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 35 

He had a way of saying things, 

That gave each word poetic wings, 
He'd take a worm before v ;ur eye 
And charm it to a butterfly; 
These are the visions that we get 
Within the lines that "Riley writ/' 

He turns dull lead to shining gold, 
He plucks the spring from winter's cold 
And takes the man who old has been, 
And makes of him a child again ; 
Such is the wisdom and the wit 
Displayed in lines that ''Riley writ." 

While he was Jiving on this earth. 
While he was giving love, and mirth, 
Perhaps he never once did know. 
Or thought how far his works will go ; 
Or how much good the world will get 
Out of the lines Jim "Riley writ." 

If you are feeling sad and blue, 
And don't know what to think, or do. 
Get for yourself a brand new book, 
And when you get it, on it look: 
You ask of me what book to get? 
'Y, get you one "Jim Riley writ." 



86 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

WHY? 

Why weep because the night is dark, 
Or present day is full of gloom 

Why weep because some pleasant dream 
Lies buried In the silent tomb 

For darkness must give place to light 

And sunshine take the place of gloom. 

And other hopes must spring as bright 
As any buried in the tomb. 

Why nurse the sorrows of the past? 

Why flood the soul with by-gone grief? 
Such things will but the present blast 

And to the soul bring no relief. 

The tongue of nature sings a song, 
If we in patience will but hear ; 

Receive it and you may grow strong, 
To cherish hope and banish fear. 

The frost of autumn fades the leaf 

From life of green to death of brown ; 

The winds of winter howl in grief 

And sweep the withered dead leaves 
down; 

And yet the tree doth lift no cry, 
Though every branch is cold and bare, 
But waits for spring with sunny sky 
To spread her beauty everywhere. 



m 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 37 

The coming leaf will be as green, 
The summer day will be as bright 

As the dead leaf was ever seen, 

As the past day now robed in night. 

The past has gone, forever gone, 

O'er the same you need not sorrow; 

Hope and duty cries go on, 

God holds for you a bright tomorrow . 



■^■ 



OUR COUNTRY'S MISSION 

Our country 'tis of thee, 
Land of the brave and free, 
God has a work for thee 
To dare to do. 

It's not to build a throne 
For kings to reign alone 
In a despotic zone. 
O'er all in view. 

It's not to sit and hold 
A wealth of horded gold, 
Callous with greed ; 

It's not to build up fame 
Or boast about our name, 
Play deaf to halt and maim 
That cry in need. 



88 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

It's not to rack our brains 
With thought of lengthened reigns, 
O'er men in slavery's chains, 
Men used as tools; 

So that our flag may wave 
O'er freedom's dusty grave, 
Where none will dare to brave, 
Our tyrant's rules. 

Such things are out of date 
For Nation, or for State, 
Our land has heard of late, 
The higher call. 

To build, and not destroy, 
Not perish but give joy. 
And thus our strength employ. 
In helping all. 

Our mission is to stand 
Torch bearers in each land, 
So all may understand. 
We are their friend; 

To hear them when they plead. 
To help them in their need, 
A friend that's one indeed, 
Unto the end. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 39 

Give strength unto the weak, 
Turn not from them who seek, 
But kindly to them speak, 
And act in love ; 

For kindness has a power. 
That gains in every hour, 
That lives through sun and shower 
A power that moves. 

Where logic has no show, 
Where reason cannot flow, 
And arguments can't show 
A thing is right; 

Kindness can find a place 
In modesty and grace. 
She runs and wins the race 
And gains the fight. 

The human body holds 
Within its dusty mould 
A God-like, deathless soul 
With a desire , 

The future to explore. 
To find some Eden sshore, 
\Vhere death can come no more, 
When flesh expires. 



40 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Our mission is to go, 
The truth, the life, to show 
That all may hear and know 
The Bible way. 

Give all, the Bible light. 
To drive away the night. 
And make their pathway bright 
To perfect day. 

Give them example too, 
Of what the book will do 
For those who hold it true. 
By living right; 

Help them to fight each foe 
That gives them pain or woe, 
And live a life to show 
You are a light. 

A light in God's own hand. 
To shine at his command, 
To bless, not curse, the land 
Where men abide. 

God— Father of us all- 
Doth love the great — the small, 
And to each one doth call 

Through Christ, who died. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 41 

Let us that call obey, 
And walk in wisdom's way, 
And let us daily pray, 
^Thy will be done," 

Till strife shall be no more. 
Till hate and war are o'or, 
And nations on each shore 
Shall stand as one. 



■#• 



PATIEINCE. II PETER 1:6 

Patience is a needed grace 
To help us run the Christian race. 
Patience to sow, and not to reap — 
Patience to work while others sleep; 
Patience to suffer pain, and loss; 
Patience to bear a heavy cross ; 
Patience to work 'mid sun and rain — 
To work and lose, then work again ; 
Patience with the flesh's thorn. 
Patience to suffer the scoffer's scorn ; 
Patience to work, to wait, to run. 
And 'mid it cry "thy will be done." 

. p 



The body, not the soul, stoops down under 
the weight of years. 



42 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

V ACTION 

Why cast the furrow across the mead 
Unless you sow the frutfui seed? 
Why cast the seed in furrows deep 
Unless you aim some day to reap? 

(Why gather thoughts from books or school 
Then turn away and act the fool ? 
If wisdom's lamp you wish to burn 
Then seek to act the things you learn. 
None can reap unless they sow 
None can do unless they know. 

p .. — 



SCIENCE— TRUE AND FALSE 

(Dan. 1:4; I Tim. 6:20.) 

Science means — not learn but know, 
Not to search out — but to show 
Reason, nature, facts, to prove 
Why things rest, or why they move. 

Science is the lamp that burns, 
Giving light to him who learns, 
Showing both effect and cause 
As they follow nature's laws. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 43 

Science creates nothing new, 
Only shines that we may view, 
And so viewing understand 
The laws of nature in command. 

Science serves both God and man, 
The last to know, to understand, 
How God standing as first cause. 
Rules through nature by his laws. 

False science is a cold foxfire, 
A fool, a phantom and a liar. 
When a God it doth disown. 
Crowning Law upon his throne. 

Saying there is naught behind it. 
Saying there is naught to bind it. 
Law the only God they find, 
Moving matter, forming mind. 

The very presence of these laws 
Shows the need of such a cause ; 
Laws of men, and laws of nature. 
Each must have a legislature. 

In each law we truly find 
To do a work it was designed. 
Wisdom planned their work and station. 
Power moved their operation. 



44 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Matter, dead, or cold, and still 
Has no power, thought or will. 
Therefore cannot be the cause 
That created nature's laws. 

In nature's every law we find 

The plan, the purpose of a mind. 

The flowers that bloom, the stars that 

shine. 
Proclaim their maker as divine. 

True science is a noble thing, 
A servant that doth knowledge bring, 
Nature's angel with her light. 
Showing nature's treasurers bright. 

Let false science say its say. 
Boast its knowledge, flaunt its way, 
Claim its college, or its school, 
lU teachings brand it, but a fool. 



■II- 



Each cloud has its silver lining 
Each star has its place of shining 
Each dog has his time of whining 
Each soul has its hour of pining. 

II 



Since it is hot, have you forgot 
How you did scold when it was cold? 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 45 

DON'T ACT THE FOOL 

As a rule a man's a fool to cuss the weath- 
er when it's cool — then to fume and rack his 
brain, just because there comes a rain. 

To go around and whine and fret, 
Just because the ground is wet. 
Then to simper and to sigh 
When the weather turns off dry, 
Then to roll and loose his sleep, 
Because some things are selling cheap, 
Then to buck, and cuss, and cry, 
'Cause other things are selling high. 

Buckng through the night and day, 
"Cause he cannot have his way. 
Listen now to what I say: 
None but fools \vill act that way. 
So if you will save your wit, 
Think awhile and learn to quit. 
Don't act the babe — be a man 
Quit your whining while yau can. 



.^^. 



Lie and the devil will agree with you. 
Get drunk and he will spree with you. 
Assist the devil, he will be with you, 
Resist him, he will flee from you. 



46 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE INCUBATOR 

My wife has got a patent hen 
That's settin' for a hatchin* — 

The wooden sort that's made by men, 
Without the cluck or scratchin'. 

They say the one she has is good 
For summer or for winter. 

If her feathers you would pull 
You'd have to pull a splinter. 

While the thing is made af wood 

And is .> money saver, 
I hope her offsprings will be good — 

You can call them chick or shaver. 



-II- 



THE BLIND MEN'S ELEPHANT 

Five blind men lived long years ago. 
And all went out to see a show, 
For one thing they were intent. 
That was to see the Elephant. 

Their fingers — not their eyes — must feast 
To learn about this wondrous beast. 
They wished to know, they wished to see 
The kind of thing that it might be. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 47 

The first one caught him by the ear, 
And felt of it with anxious care, 
ni tell you, for I know I can. 
The Elephant is like a fan. 

The next one felt along his side, 
A thing he found, both high and wide, 
List here, said he, both one and all, 
The Elephant is like a wall. 

One felt his leg from foot to knee. 
And then he said you must agree 
That well I know and well I see. 
The elephant is like a tree. 

Another to his snout did go. 
And said without a doubt you know, 
ril tell the folks wherever I go 
He^s like a bugle that we blow. 

The last one felt until he found 
The tail hanging to the ground ; 
He said, Get out with all your dope, 
The Elephant is like a rope. 

Now each one felt he knew the best. 
And so contented with the rest; 
The part he felt was only small, 
He found a PART and thought it ALL. 



48 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

And out of this there grew a strife, 
Which lasted through their natural life; 
Each one believed that he was right, 
Each one was honest in the fight. 

Each from his viewpoint got his thought, 
For which he argued and he fought; 
Each had convictions deep and strong, 
That made him judge all others wrong. 

So oft in life this thing is true, 

Men oftimes get a partial view% 

But for such views will stand and fight. 

And claim they know that they are right. 

And though their views are weak and small. 
They thnk it's true, they know it all. 
They know it all in their own mind. 
To ALL of truth they are stone blind. 

Die deep for truth that you may find 
The same, and fix it in your mind, 
And from the same do not depart. 
But hold it in your hand and heart. 

Don't be so sure that you are right. 
That you'll get mad and want to fight, 
.Each one thai you may chance ^o see 
Who with you does not agree. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 49 

THE FOUR STAGES OF LIFE 

It has been said that ''We creep into child- 
hood, bound into youth, sober into manhood 
and totter into old age." 

Stage One 

We creep into childhood days 
Where the morning sunlight glows. 
Where the south wmd softly blows, 
Ahere the springtime violet grows; 
There we weep and sleep and dream. 
There we creep and peep and scream, 
There love's smiles upon us beam ; 
There we start and stop and balk, 
There we stammer, then we talk, 
There we creep and crawl and walk, 
As we sweep through childhood days. 

Stage Two 

We bound into youthful days. 
Grapes of joy hang on life's vine. 
Ripening in the warm sunshine, 
Holding juice of sweetest wine ; 
Wine to cure, but not to kill. 
Wine to make the life blood thrill, 
Wine of joy the soul to fill ; 
Making it both glad and strong, 



50 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Sending out its glad sweet song, 

Cheering earth the whole day long, 

With bounding praise through youthful days, 

Stage Three 

We sober into manhood days, 
Floating down life's winding stream, 
Waking from youth's fitful dream. 
Life is not what it did seem; 
Life appears a complex thing. 
Like a bee with sweet and sting. 
Good and evil it doth bring; 
Pleasures found soon pass away, 
Hopes oft perish in a day, 
Things denied, for which we pray, 
Through such dark ways come sober days. 

Stage Four 

We totter into old age 1 

After the fall and crawl and creep. 

After the grapes of youth we reap. 

After the waking from the sleep, 

After childhood's flower is dead. 

After youthful hopes have sped, 

After manhood's strength has fled, 

We totter to the stage of old age. 

Then like a child again we creep. 

Into the room where shadows sweep, "' 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 51 

Into the room where loved ones sleep, 
Into the room where all the blest 
From toil and sorrow sweetly rest, 
Into the room they call the tomb. 
We finish up our page, 
We finish out our age, 
And totter from the stage 
Into the room they call the tomb. 

II 



FUSSY 

Once there was a little boy 

Very fond of rackets, 
So he picked a fuss one day 

With some yellow- jackets. 
Thrashing their nest on the ground. 
The thrashing raised ther ire. 

They set the boy afire — 
It hurt when — he — sat down. 
Men there be who meet with us 

That seem to glory in a fuss ; 
They growl, and kick, and fret. 

If folks but had a jacket's wing 
And could use a jacket's sting 

To fix them where they set. 



If you want to start perpetual motion, give 
your note drawing interest. 



52 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

ARKANSAS 

Dear Arkansas, the best old State 
Now numbered with the Forty-eight. 
Of all the stars on field of blue, 
I love your's best, I know I do. 

I love your mountains grand and high 
That crown their peaks with mist of sky; 
I love your valleys, fields and glades 
That sleep within the mountain shades ; 

I love your rivers, cool and deep, 
That onward to the ocean sweep 
With bending willows green and low. 
That fringe them in their onward flow. 

I love your forests, where are seen 
Your armies clad in coats of green. 
Not ranks of men — but ranks of trees, 
Whose leafy banners catch the breeze. 

I love your sunshine and your showers. 
Your golden fruits and blooming flowers, 
Your fields spread out on hill and plain 
With orchards green and golden grain. 

I love your forest with its trees 
Its singing birds and buzzing bees, 
Your shades of night and beams of day 
That on your bosom dance and play. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 53 

I love your manners and your rules, 
I love your churches and your schools, 
Regardless of their creed or law, 
I love the folks of Arkansas. 

I love them for the homes they make, 
I love them for their goodness sake. 
I do not love, but almost hate, 
The man that does not love our State. 



SUPERSTITION 

Never hang a horse-shoe in your room nor 
nail one on your door-step unless you wish to 
advertise your own folly. 

A rabbit's foot 
From a graveyard took. 
And over the grave 
Of a dead man shook, 
May fill some timid 
Souls with fright 
And make them dream 
Bad dreams at night. 



If I had to be a dog like a dog that howls, 
rd rather be a barking dog than to be a 
dop- that oTowls. 



54 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

PURE IN HEART 

''Blessed are the pure in heart for they 
shall see God." So will other folks, but they 
will not see Him as the pure hearted man sees 
Him. For to him 'The heavens declare His 
glory, the firmament showeth His handi-work. 
Day unto day uttereth speech ; night unto night 
showeth knowledge." 

The broad, broad sky, so blue, so high. 
That hangs across the fields of space ; 
The earth below where forests grow, 
The earth below where rivers flow. 
The sky above, the earth below. 
Combine to show their Maker's gi^ace 
His power. His presence ever nigh. 



HISTORY 

History is a grave that's made 
In which the cold dead past is laid. 
We read and thus roll back the door 
And look upon the corpse once more, 
Now cold and still. 

Some seem so eager for the sight 
They gaze upon it with delight. 
Around this grave they like to stand 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 55 

And hold in theirs this cold dead hand, 
And feel its chill; 

But history I do seldom read 
Unless I wish to pluck a seed 
Out of this tomb — 

A seed of truth, to plant, to grow. 
That men today may see, may know, 
Its fruit and bloom. 

^ 



LIFE 

Life is like a milk cow, _ 

White, speckled, red or dun. 

That folks can milk for pleasure, 
For profit or for fun. 

The man who makes the best of life. 

In action, or in dream, 
Can spread his cake with butter 

And smack his lips on cream. 

But he who scorns the hand of fate 

And kicks against its power. 
In act or dream will find no cream, 
But all his milk turned sour. 

II 

Some folks can drink more joy out of a 
pint cup than others can out of a gallon bucket. 



56 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

POETS 

^Toets are traditionally supposed to dine 
on air and sup on moonshine/' 

Air for food has always been 
Too light — too belchy, and almost too thin, 
Though lips be placed to a moonlight cup, 
There's no good taste in a moonlight sup 
Such things may do to feast one's head, 
But the stomach calls for meat and bread. 



II- 



THE END OF THE YEAR 

Old mother earth has made her run 
And circled once again the sun. 
And in her rolling, rapid flight. 
Has filled a year with day and night. 

Days of winter etched in frost. 
Snow flakes by the wild winds tossed. 
Trees in forests bleak and bare, 
Brown earth frozen everywhere. 

Days of spring with bloom clad trees. 
Home of birds, and feast of bees. 
Hills and valleys dressed in green, 
Where laughing brooklets skip between. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 57 

Summer days with golden hours, 
Fields of corn, and summer showers, 
Rambling herds with tinkling bells 
Feeding in the grassy dells. 

Autumn days with crimson leaf, 
Ripened fruit and garnered sheaf, 
Summer crickets singing low 
'Neath the sunset's purple glow. 



WIT 

What is this thing the world calls wit, 
That sometimes stings a little bit. 
And yet the sting is only half. 
For oft the stung one has to laugh, 

When he surveys the place it hit 
And se^s the wisdom of the fit. 
Wit is to wisdom but her darts 
That from the bow of humor starts, 

That a lodging place doth find 
Within the corresponding mind. 
That a ripling laugh doth start 
On thp lips from out the heart. 

p 



Don't borrow your neighbor's head unless 
yours is too green to use. 



58 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE GOODY GOODY MAN 

Hit me with a snowball, beat me on the back, 
Talk about my kinsfolks till your face is black, 
Drench me on rye coffee, feed me on wheat 

bran. 
But for goodness save me from the goody 

goody man. 



SMILE 

Day time is just as cheap as night, 
4nd smiles are just as cheap as tears. 

Then let your life be full of light 
To bless you through the fleeting years ; 

Don't cry nor sigh because it's cold. 
Don't muss nor cuss because its hot. 

Thank God for blessings that you hold. 
And the others "covet not." 



Some have a way 

Like the month of May, 

To smile on the world as they go, 

While others are like 

The month of March 

For they blow— they blow, and they blow 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 59 

DECEMBER 

December is here, it may be said 
The time is near when the year is dead, 
Like a withered leaf, to fall to rot 
While coming days will know it not 
Save by the pen on the printed page, 
That tells of men in our present age. 
Only a few will have the fame 
To cause the writer to write his name. 
But unto all a chance is given. 
To write their name in the book of heaven, 
Where years die not in the passing age. 
And nonets forgot on the golden page. 
Why cast a sigh, at the flight of time 
That moves us on to the world sublime, 
Where morning lasts through endless day 
And life and love pass not away? 



Each Life Holds Within Itself 

A thought that brings a tinge of sorrow, 
A hope that grasps a bright tomorrow ; 
Each soul has its weight of sadness, 
Each soul has its light of gladness, 
Each soul stumbles oft in blindness. 
Each soul needs its word of kindness. 



60 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

BIRTH DAY GIFTS 

On the 7th of December, 

I will be sixty-six. 

If you're going to give me something, 

You had better send it quick. 

Don't send me holy water, 
Don't send me any flu. 
Don't send me soxs 
With holes in them, 
Unless you send the shoe. 

If you send me roses. 
Please keep back the thorns. 
If you send your feet to me. 
Please don't send your corns. 

Send me not your troubles, 
Either cold or hot, 
I do not want to mix them 
With the sort I've got. 

Send me bits of sunshine. 
Not bigger than a calf. 
Send me your good wishes 
And that will make me laugh. 



Egotism is like a fiest dog: it will bark, 
though by so doing it advertises its own little- 
ness. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 61 

TALENTS 

Everything in the world was made for a 
purpose and is fitted by nature to fill a place 
and do a work — an ox can pull a plow, a bee 
can gather honey — a cat can catch a rat and 
a hen can build a nest. 

An ox may do his best 
But he cannot build a nest, 
A bee may build its house 
But it cannot catch a mouse. 

And a cat would look so funny 
To try to gather honey, 
And a hen you may avow 
Never, never pulled a plow. 

W 



TIMERS NEW YEAR GIFT 

Old Father Time, the Reaper, 
That walks through endless space, 

With sickle on his shoulder 
And wrinkles on his face. 

That measurers off duration 
Into days and months and years ; 

That's traveled since creation 
Down the vale of smiles and tears. 



62 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

His tracks come down through ages, 
'Mid their shadows and their dust 

Before the ancient sages 
Built a tomb( or carved a bust. 

He rocked old Egypt's cradle 
On the banks of ancient Nile 

And watched the Burmese mother 
Feed the hungry crocodile. 

He was present when the Caesars 
Built their Kingdom and their throne, 

And when the men of China 
Built their ancient wall of stone. 

He walked with Eve and Adam 

Before they nursed a son ; 
In fact this world has had him 

Ever since it was begun. 

And he will be with us 

Upon this mundane shore, 
Until the Judgment Angel 

Swears time shall be no more. 

The morning Star gives warning 

From Eastern sky so clear, 
That He's opened the gates of morning 

To cfive us "this New Year/* 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 63 

Let us take the gift he flings us, 
' And be thankful as we should ; 
Let us take the gift he brings us 
And fill it up with good. 



HOME 

Some pictures hanging on the wall, 
Some music sounding through the hall, 
Some books to read in silent hours, 
Some climbing vines and blooming flowers. 
Give home life a charm of power 
That reaches one and all. 



THE OLD TATTLER 

There was an old woman 
That lived in two shoes, 

That made it her business 
To scatter the news; 

She'd visit the Jones', 
The Smiths, and the Browns, 

She knev/ everybody 
In country and towns ; 
You could mention no subject 
But what she would know 

All things about it, 



64 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

And she'd tell you so ; 
From trapping of panthers 

To killing of flies ; 
From building of railroads 

To baking of pies, 
She could tell about ghosts 

With their thumping and knocking, 
As they slambed open doors 

And set chairs to rocking. 
She could tell about planting. 

When late or when soon, 
When to plant in the ground. 

And when in the moon ; 
And how John Sandy 

Filled his big barn. 
By watching the moon 

When he planted his corn; 
To make a cucumber, melon or beet, 

Plant to signs in the arms but not in the 
feet. 
She could tell you the winter 

When snow was the deepest. 
She could tell you the year 

When eggs were the cheapest; 
She could tell you when Brooks 

Made his big crop of corn. 
And when Fannie Snooks* 

Oldest baby was born. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 65 

And when Sammy Simpkins 

Bought his red cow, 
And old Mrs. Hawkins 
Lost her old sow; 
And when Jack Johnson 

Moved in and moved out, ^ . ; , 

And old Billy Jenkins 

Died with the gout; 
When young Dickey Jones 

Set traps for the weasels, 
And his sister Annie 

Broke out with the measles. 
And on money matters 

She, too, was quite knowing. 
And oft she would chatter 

About neighbors owing (Prov. 19:7) 
Who held the mortgage 

And who held the deed. 
Who has a plenty 

And who is in need; 
She knew every scandal (Prov. 12:18) 

That floated around ; 
The truth of the matter 

Of course she had found. 
Her nose was so long. 
Of course, you could smell it; 
And she would tell you 

If you wouldn^t tell it (Prov. 11:13) 



66 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Some folks you'd think 

Both honest and true, 
She'd say with a wink, 

She'd found wouldn't do ; 
Some husbands were "bears," 
Some women were "cats," 
She'd been in their homes 

And heard them have spats ; 
And many young ladies 

That virtue doth claim, 
Her tongue it could ruin 

If she'd give their name (Prov. 18:8) 
This talky old woman 

Would sit by your fire, 
Such a comfort as this 

You could not deny her; 
She'd sleep in your bed 

And feast at your table, 
And then she would borrow 

A horse from your stable, 
On which she would ride 

Either one mile or two 
To visit your neighbor 

And talk about you ; 
For there's an old proverb 

On a thing that's well known, 
"A dog that will bring 

Will carry a bone,'- 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 67 

This talky old dame, 

Full of lies and cusses, 
Played oft at the game 

Of stirring up fusses. 
Her tongue like the devil, 

Was loaded with fire, 
In which she would revel. 

For she was a liar. 
A person that tattles 

To tell a lie, 
Will make them themselves 

To keep a supply. 
One should scorn gossip. 

From all who may bring it, 
If they sing a lie, 

Don't you learn to sing it; 
If they bring a lie 

In December or June, 
You let it go by. 

Don't make it a tune. 
Just peddle the truth 

When you peddle the news; 
Don't act the old woman 

That lived in two shoes. 
Now I will close 

My last bit of news 
About this old woman 

That walked in two shoes. 



68 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

You may count it good 

And eagerly grab it, 
When I say what I should 

That she quit her old habit: 
For sure a day came 

When she never lied ; 
That was the same 

Day after she died; 
The neighborhood read 

About her decease, 
And somebody said, 

*T guess we'll have peace." — Proverbs. 



^^^ 



y'X'9, 
-U- 



WEIGHTS AND WINGS 

The world has weights, 

And the world has wings | 

And you my friends ' ; | 

Are one of these things. 1§ 

A wing lifts up ^ 

And helps one fly, f 

A weight pulls down '§ 

If one should try. 1 

You are a wing of blessing ^ 

Or a weight of curse; H 

You make the world better ^■ 

Or you make it worse. ..^ ^iiw*^ 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 69 

A NEW LAW 

There ought to be a law prohibiting young 
men marrying until they are worth one hun- 
dred dollars above their debts. Why? 

1. Because they don't need to start house- 
keeping on the pauper list. 

2. A man that can't save one hundred dol- 
lars above hs own living has no use for a wife. 

3. Folks will marry (at least they always 
have) ; such a law would cause young men to 
put their money in a savings bank instead of 
investing it in cigarettes, negro minstrels, red 
neckties and booze. 

4. It would cause them to cut out idleness, 
and extravagance and other bad habits, and 
beget within them the spirit of industry, so- 
briety and economy: three things they need to 
use all through their lives. 



Some things are not true to name, 
Though the name such things may utter. 
Milk weeds never give us milk, 
No butterfly gives butter. 



70 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE TWILIGHT HOUR 

After the sun has sunk to rest 
With purple clouds in the golden west 
And one by one the stars of light 
Trim their lamps on the field of night, 
And the southland sends its evening breeze 
To play on the harps of the forest trees 
That join in song with the mountain rill 
And the distant notes of the whippoorwill, 
The soul is filled and thrilled with power 
That it only feels in the twilight hour. 



OCTOBER'S MIDDLE 

The year's glad march 
So fast has sped 
That nine full months 
Have from us fled 

And bright October 
'Neath the sky 
Has half her army 
Marched on by. 

She decks the meadows 
With her dew 
And paints the forests 
Purple hue. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 71 

She gives the moon 
A silver veil 
To drop at night. 
O'er hill and dale 

Indian summer's 
Smoky blue 
Lends enchantment 
To the view. 

Her sun at eve 

Sinks in the west 
Mid gold and purple 
Clouds to rest. 



•Il- 



OUR UNCLE SAM 

Our Uncle Sam's a good old man, 
As good as good can be, 

If you do not sink his ships 
Nor block his open sea; 

But if you do, look out for him. 
For when that work is done 

He'll fly, or float, or walk, or swim 
To hunt you with his gun. 



72 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

The Huns may drive old Russia back, 
And of the same may brag ; 

But they will never make a track 
Beneath our Uncle's flag. 

If they ever make a track, 

Now listen what I say: 
Their toes will be found running back 

With their heels this way. 



ON THE PICTURE OF ROBERT 
BROWNING 

I looked on the face of Browning 

With eyes cast down; 
I see no cloud of frowning, 

No trace of frown ; 
When nature did her crowning, 

Peace was his crown. 
That shows upon each feature 

In lines of light, 
That marks this noble creature 

With mind so bright, 
A bard, a noble teacher. 

To teach the right. 
His forehead like a temple 

With lofty dome, 
Where mental troops assemble 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 73 

And fancies roam, 

Where golden sunbeams tremble 

In magic's home. 
A crop of ringlets growing — 

His temples crown, 
Where silver threads are showing 

Among the brown. 
With shield of beard soft flowing 

In beauty down. 
His face a mold of fineness 

By nature wrought, 
Each feature holds a kindness 

In which is caught 
A look of noble mindedness 

And pure thought. 
Where there is strength and beauty 

Of soul and mind. 
It seems that nature's duty 

Is but to find 
And shape a mortal temple, 

The same in kind. 
There is a link that's binding 

The soul to clay, 
The same we oft are finding 

In nature's play: 
The two in one combining, 

Together stay. 
The eagle with the piercing eye 



74 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Has strength of wing 
To lift it upward to the sky 

Where it may sing: 
Take these away, it soon would die, 

A feeble thing. 
When soul from body moves away, 

The body must 
Fall as a temple in decay, 
Fall back to dust: 
It's filled its mission in its day 

Of nature's trust. 



■p. 



AUTUMN 

Old summer time in heat did climb , 

And August seemed as hot as embers, 

She passed on by beneath the sky 

That looks so blue in all Septembers. 

Chrysanthemums hold their blooms of gold 
And at the stars through mists are peeping 

The astor nods to golden rods. 

The ivy on the ground is creeping. 

The cjuaiFs shrill cry comes through the rye, 

As to its mate it's calling ; 
The summer flower has lost its power. 

Its dead leaves now are falling. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 75 

The bii^ds of spring that once did sing, 
Now fail to show their feather 

They shut their mouth and fly down south ( 
In dread of colder weather. 

The autumn breeze sings 'mong the trees, 
Where purple leaves now quiver. 

The willow's tinge of beauty fringe, 
The banks of lake and river. 

The pumpkin vine that once did twine 
Around the green corn growing. 

Now near the sheaf shades with its leaf 
Its fruit of gold now showing. 

In early morn like hunters horn, 
The pale new moon is gleaming, 

We see its light through shades of night, 
Like silver threads down streaming. 

It seems an angel at the loom, 

Each night with brilliant story, 

Her shuttle flies to scatter gloom, 
And weave a web of glory. 

The angel nature talks of God, 

And bids us love — not fear him 

And though we walk beneath the rod 
Each step doth bring us near him. 



76 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

He weaves a sermon in each leaf 

A song in every flower 
He gives us hope to heal our grief 

And faith to give us power. 

That we may tread life's narrow vale 
And feast upon its beauty 

And seek in every hill and dale 
To know and do our duty. 

In shades of night when beams of light 

From nature's lamps are given 
I feel a calm that says I am 

Close to the gates of heaven. 



■T^. 



OLD WINTER 

Despite our hope, despite our fear, 
You make your rounds to us each year, 
Old winter. 

You whistle when the north wind blows, 
Your mantle is the drifting snows. 
Old winter. 

Your clouds are dull and leaden gray, 
That shut from view the sun of day, 
Old winter. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 77 

You walk amid the forest trees 
That shake and shiver in your breeze, 
Old winter. 

You push the sun down to the South 
And breathe the frost from out your mouth, 
Old winter. 

You freeze the rivers in their flow 
And paint the mountains white with snow. 
Old winter. 

You cover shrub, and rock and grass. 
And raise the price of coal and gas, 
Old winter. 

Youx" days are short, your nights are long. 
Your breath is thin, but cold and strong, 
Old winter. 

Some day you'll leave vnth cold and mud 
And give a place for flower and bud. 
Old winter. 

While you are here we'll not be mad, 
But when you go we will be glad. 
Old cold winter. 






The way to have a jolly good itme is take 
one wtih you. 



78 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

LUCK 

Is there such a thing as luck, 
Good and bad as people call it? 
Does Fate descend like Fairy Gods 
To make our happiness or spoil it? 

Luck who art thou, a master great 
With spoon to feed, or club to maul us? 
Must we submit to thy mandate 
And answer thee when thou do'st call us ? 

Have you a light to lead us right 
Or clouds of darkness to blind us, 
The right alone to give a throne 
Or with a felon's chain to bind us? 

There is no luck, or power of chance. 
To teach the same is but to fool us. 
There is a blessed providence, 
A God above our life to rule us. 

Then give to Him your hand and heart 
And walk the way that He is showing. 
As guide from you He'll not depart. 
But lead you where you should be going. 

He may not give the things you ask ; 
He knoweth best what should be given, 
Though hard and bitter be your task 
Why mui^mer when it ends in Heaven? 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 79 

AT SIXTY-FOUR 

I used to think in younger days 

That old age had no charm; 
Fve reached the stage they call old age, 

I find it bright and warm. 

The morning sun its course has run, 
Also the noon with heated strife, 

The evening breeze through nut-brown trees 
Blows in its calm to sweeten life. 

The shadows lengthen round our feet. 
Harbinger of approaching night. 

In which new visions we shall greet 
In dome of blue, with stars of light. 

For He who lives in love to give 
Knows what to give that^s best; 

He gives us life with toil and strife. 
And after that gives us rest. 

—December 7, 1917. 



-Il- 



Such ugly tempers some folks have got, 
They nurse the thing to keep it hot, 
But sure it is a better rule 
To turn it loose— and let it cool, 



80 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

LET HIM GO 

When all agree, the honey tree 
Drops down its sweets for all — 

But when we see men disagree 
That honey turns to gall. 

When the black sin of strife begins, 
The Devil rules the day. 

When peace prevails he tucks his tail 
And quickly moves away. 



DIFFERENT TASTES 

The humming-bird doth seek the flower 
To get its sweets you know ; 

The patridge seeks the golden grain 
That in the fields doth grow; 

The buzzard is a big brown bird. 

Beneath the sky so blue — 
The thing he seeks of course youVe heard, 

I need not tell it to you. 

Men, like birds, have different tastes. 
And seek for different things ; 

Some seek the honey-dew of love 
That in life's flower springs; 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 81 

Some seek the golden grain of truth 
That in life's field doth grow; 

Some seek for pleasure, some for power, 
For health or wealth you know; 

While some are like the big brown bird, 

They act like him I tell 
They have no taste for grain or flower, 

They glory in a smell. 



THOUGHTS ON THANKSGIVING 

This day of thanksgiving 

Finds us thankful for a rest. 

Thankful we are hving 

And thankful we are blest; 

The the fighting Hun 

Has quit the field of battle ; 

His saber and his gun 

Have ceased to shoot or rattle. 

No more the German eagle flies 
Upon her wings of kultur; 

The nations round her cries, 

"She's but a bloody vulture." 

Wow weak with broken beak. 

Her wings have lost each feather; 

No more she'll fly, neath war's black sky, 
Her warring hordes to gather. 



82 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Thankful the dove of Peace now flies 
O^er each land and river; 

Thankful that the world now cries 
For peace to last forever ; 

Thankful that our noble boys 

That fought beneath ^^Old Glory," 

Soon can taste domestic joys, 

While loved ones hear their story. 

Thankful that the time's at hand 
To show the world much wiser; 

Thankful — soon in every land 

There'll rule no king nor kaiser ; 

The time is near to fill the grave 

With old dead Autocracy, 
And for freedom's flag to wave 
O'er world-wide Democracy. 

I've said enough of war and kings, 
Of laws, and flags, and nations; 

I'm thankful too, for other things 

Like home, and clothes and rations ; 

I'm thankful for a mule to plow, 
And chicks to crow and flutter; 

I'm thankful for a mulie cow 
To give us milk and butter. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 83 

r*m thankful for some hogs to kill, 

To furnish meat for frying ; 
And for "taters" in the hill, 

And fruit my wife's been drying, 

Thankful to the Lord above 

For all the gifts he's given ; 
I thank Him for His grace ^nd love. 

And for the hope of Heaven. 

—November 28, 1918. 



■II- 



SIXTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY 

I've floated down the stream of life 

These five and sixty years, 
I've passed through vales of joy and strife, 

Bright smiles, and bitter tears. 

Life, like the seasons passing by. 

Changing each little while, 
Dark storm clouds hung across our sky, 

Give place to sun with smile. 

And as it smiles each bending leaf, 
Bent low with weight of rain, 

Like a mourner bowed in grief. 
Lifts up its head again. 



84 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

The rain drops drink the streams of light 
The sweeping sunbeams bring, 

And from them flash a beam as bright 
As flashing diamonds fling. 

The dark cloud throws the rainbow out 

Across the path of storm, 
And nature whispers, "Do not doubt," 

And calms us with her charm. 

We've had our days of bitter grief, 

Of sorrow and of pain, 
And bent beneath them like a leaf 

Beneath its weight of rain. 

But He who walked upon the sea 

Beneath a stormy sky. 
Has oft in darkness come to me 

And whispered, "It is I." 

Thus helping me to bear the cross 

Of sorrow or of pain. 
And what appeared to be a loss 

Oft proved to be a gain. ' 

I know not where His hand shall lead, 

Before me hangs a veil; 
I know not how the wind shall speed 

The progress of my sail. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 85 

But this I know — where'er I go, 
Where'er my boat shall roam, 

He'll lead aright — through day or night, 
And he can lead me home. 

II 



THE AMERICAN POET 

Joyce Kilmer, the young American poet 
has been killed in action. He was mown down 
by a German shell on the 30th of July, 1918. 
He belonged to the Sixty-ninth Regiment of 
New York, and was in the front rank of battle, 
chasing the Huns 

"When Death came flying through the air." 
Death for the young, the brave the fair. 
Death with his cold and heartless power. 
Withering life as frost the flower. 

Death in bayonet and death in shell, 
Darkening earth wtih the shades of hell. 
Sending our boys to fill a grave 
In the land of France that they sought to 
save. 

Among the heap of the dying men 
Was the noble youth whose flying pen 
Had sent its message of truth to cheer 
The hearts of soldiers everywhere. 



86 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

And fill the mothers' hearts with joy, 
With pride, with hope, for her soldier boy. 
'lis hand is cold, his pen is still. 
No more its message the heart will thrill. 
But the souls of patriots there and here 
Will tribute pay in a falling tear. 

Mr. Alexander Woolcott, who belongs to the 
staif of the New York Times, but is now serv- 
ing as a soldier in France, tells us that he vis- 
ited the grave of Joyce Kilmer and placed upon 
it a spray of cypress. Young Kilmer lies buri- 
ed beside Lieut. Oliver Ames. They are buried 
at the edge of a little copse that is known as 
the Wood of the Burned Bridge, near the bank 
of the Ourch, whose sparkling waters speed on 
their way like streams of human life to take 
their place in the deep, deep sea. In the land 
of France, in the home of La Fayette rests the 
mortal bodies of these young patriots. 

Some day when the smoke of battle has 
blown away and the dove of peace hovers over 
a poor and sick, and bleeding and sorrowing 
world, the children of America and the child- 
ren of France will walk hand in hand to the 
graves of these noble dead and lift a stone to 
commemorate the memory of men who count- 
ed liberty sweeter than life and stronger than 
death. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 81 

Following is a poem of Joyce Kilmer^s. 
Things he wrote of others in a ''Rouge Bou- 
quet" are now true of him. 

Rouge Boquuet 

"In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet 
There is a new made grave today, 
Built by never a spade nor pick 
Yet covered with earth ten meters thick. 
There lie many fighting men, 

Dead in their youthful prime. 
Never to laugh nor love again 

Nor taste of the summertime. 
For death came flying through the air 
And stopped his flight at the dugout stair, 
Touched his prey and left them there 

Clay to clay. 
He hid their bodies stealthily 
In the soil of the land they fought to free 

And fled away. 
Nov/ over the grave, abrupt and clear 

Three volleys ring; 
And perhaps their brave young spirits hear 

The bugle sing 
'Go to sleep!' 
Go to sleep! 
Slumber well where the shell screamed and 
fell. 



88 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Let your rifles rest on the muddy floor, 
You will not need them any more. 

Danger's past ; 

Now at last, 
Go to sleep!' 
"There is on earth no worthier grave 
To hold the bodies of the brave 
Than this place of pain and pride 
Where they nobly fought and nobly died". 



THE BOOSTERS 

After all the rip and hustle, 
After the hurrah and the bustle. 
To stir the farmer to use his muscle 
And get on himself a double hustle, 

To don his overalls, jumper or jeans 

And plant big patches of 'taters and beans, 

Using such as a national means 

To feed our allies and our own marines. 

Some farmers who gave their ear a shout 
When the hustling movers were moving about 
Went home and thought the plan all out 
How to raise turnips and 'taters and kraut; 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 89 

But since the trotters have stopped their 
trottin' 

The message they gave has been forgotten ; 

The plots that they and the farmers were plot- 
tin' 

Have all given way to a field of cotton. 

The farmer may not have gone to school, 
But that doesn't say that he is a fool. 
He thinks with a head that's calm and cool 
And knows what to plant as a general rule. 

So the farmer has done the very thing 
That farmers do most every spring; 
He's planted his surplus crop in a thing 
That the largest profit he thinks will bring. 

Good farmers have clung to their old-time 

creed, 
They have planted grain enough to feed 
And tide them over this time of need — 
A very wise thing to do indeed. 

The farmer that farms in such a way 
As to have on hand his corn and hay, 
With his cows to milk and his hens to lay 
Can raise some cotton and make it pay. 

No farmer should ever a hobby sing, 
Nor plant his farm all in one thing, 
For such a method is sure to bring 
Him a slave and tool of the money king. 



90 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE THINGS WE SOMETIMES HEAR 

It was not a sermon, but just a thing, 
Which an excited brain did fling 

From off a stammering tongue; 

It brought no message from God^s word, 
Only a sing-song sound was heard, 
No truth for old or young. 

The talker called the thing a preach, 
A sermon that the truth did teach. 
The truth, the life, the way; 

The people called the thing a screech, 
That grated on the nerves of each. 
Much like the donkey^s bray. 

The talker started with a text, 
But soon his mind was so preplexed, 
He wandered from the same; 

He used his tongue and muscle power, 
To squall and hammer for an hour. 
But to his subject never came. 

Lord pity men that have a tongue, 
(Be they old or be they young) 

But have no brains behind it; 

That want to preach. 
And try to teach 

A subject, but can't find it. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 91 

LIFE LIKE A TREE 

Some lives are like beautiful trees that 
grow in God's garden. Their leaf is green 
with hope, their bloom is bright with cheerful- 
ness, their fruit is flavored with loving ser- 
vice. Their shade of brotherly kindness fur- 
nishes a refuge that comforts, cheers, and 
strengthens earth's pilgrims on their desert 
march across the sands of time. 

Stop dear friend, and talk with me ; 
Is your life that kind of tree? 
Strong, and bright, and sweet, and good, 
If it's not my friend, it should. 
Stop my friend, and promise me^ 
You'll make your life that kind of tree. 



Putting things together does not 
Always mean union. 

I never thought 

It was the best 

To set two hens 

Upon one nest 

They'd mix their feathers 

And their legs. 
The two together 

Would break their eggs. 



92 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

AT THE DEPOT 

Oh, ho ! ho ! ho ! ! You beautiful snow- 
That covers the ground 'round the old depot, 
Where a negro is armed with shovel and hoe 
To rake you off so the crowd can go. 

We hear the auto go whiz and whiz 
That tries to go. Where the snow now is 
Life's current flows, in a world of biz, 
And the Dutchman's nose looks like it will siz 

The traveling drummer is big and stout. 
As he wags and drags his grips about 
Mad enough to "cuss" or poui, 
'Cause the porter let the fire go out. 

II 

Said the funny man to Pat, 
"Sell me one yard of meat." 
"Begorah, I will do that. 
I'll sell you three pig's feet, 
Then you will have your meat. 
You cunning old blackguard. 
For don't you know three feet 
Always make a yard? 



Old mother earth is beginning to wear 
Blooms on her bosom and leaves in her hair. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 93 

THE SIMPLE LIFE 

Life is a thing that's so complex, 

So multf orm in thought, in feature. 

Its study doth a soul perplex 

To mark its traits within the creature. 

Life has its power in thoughts and deeds, 
On w^hich it builds — by which it grows. 

The food on which it fills and feeds. 
That makes its happiness or woes. 

Not in the crown of reigning kings. 
Not in the laurel wreath of fame 

Doth sweet contentment softly sing, 
Or virtue wear an honored name. 

But men in lowly walks of life. 

That drive the plow share through the 
soil, 
Unhaunted by ambition's strife. 

With love and hope to sweeten toil. 

With humble cot where vine doth cling. 
And violets blush as blue as sky, 

In which a loving mother sings 
Unto her babe a lullaby. 

Within the shadow of the nest, 

With wife and children both to love, 

Here Hfe doth find its sweetest rest, 
A likeness of the rest above. 



94 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Here grows the sweetest things of life, 
The dew of honey in the flower, 

Untasted by the lips of strife, 

Unbought by money or by power. 

And as the violets 'neath the hill 

Drink in the sunshine and the dew. 

And smile above the laughing rill, 

That hold its shadow soft and blue. 

Not caring what the world may think, 
Nor what its rushing throng may say, 

As from the sun and dew it drinks 
Its cup of fulness every day. 

So do the simple lives of men 

That humble like the violets grow. 

Teach us that such is better than 
A life of riches, pomp and show. 

And when on slumber's dreamless bed 
Their mortal bodies fall to rest, 

By lips of friends it may be said 

In life or death such men are blest. 

For rich in mind and rich in heart, 

They gladly passed each living day. 

Wealth of this kind will not depart. 
In earth or heaven it will stay. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 95 

SEPTEMBER 

September, the month that is number nine ; 
September, the month that's bright and fine ; 
September, the month when the circkets pine 
For summer days in their sad decline ; 

September's forest is dark and green. 
No touch of frost on the leaf is seen ; 
September, the month that slips beween 
The autumn gold and the summer green. 

The wild goats climb to the mountain rocks, 
The autumn birds now fly in flocks. 
The fields of corn now stand in shocks — 
The farmers' dividends and stocks. 

Autumn beans in the fields we find 
Close to the pumpkin with golden rind. 
Peas and potatoes of different kind 
Feed the stomach if not the mind. 

The hot sun drops for the day to die, 
The round moon laughs from the bending sky, 
The soft cool winds through the windows sigh, 
To soothe the spirits of you and I. 

■ II 



A little boy, after listening to a long ser- 
mon, said, "Ma, is this tonight or is this next 
Sunday night?" 



96 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE DEVIL'S HONEY. 

Devils like bees possess their wings 
To fly with honey and with stings, 
And which ever suits them best 
Is the one that they invest. 

If their lance can do no harm, 
Their only chance is flattery^s charm; 
For it's a maxim of the schools 
That flattery is the food of fools;. 

Not only fools but men of wit, 
Will condescend to take a bit; 
So each of them the devil treats 
On this deceptive kind of sweets ; 

But on the lips of great and small 
This honey turns to bitter gall, 
For many fall, as many fell 
Drunk on this honey made in helL 

For the devil knows the thing 
Is more destructive than his sting; 
And so a man may smile and smile 
And be a devil all the while; 

For devils trap with lust and money, 
They also trap with smiles and honey. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 97 

/< SUNSET 

Do you see that mist of golden hue 
In the far-far-distant West, 
Down at the edge of the dome of blue 
JVhere the sun sinks down to rest? 
The Western world is a field of light, 
All flaked with a purple hue. 

And fleecy clouds once snowy white, 

vTurn amber, purple and blue. 

Thus nature stands at the gate of night 

When the passing day has done. 

To spread this veil of brilhant light 

O'er the face of the setting sun. 

So may it be with you and me 

When life's short day is done, 

May we find the best in the golden West, 

Like the silent setting sun. 



WELCOME 

The lengthening days \vith their grit of sun, 
That skips and plays where the brooklets run, 
That paints the flowers for the humming bees 
And fits green robes on the forest trees. 
While the Southwind sings its sweet refrain, 
And tells us that Spring has come again. 



98 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE WISE AND FOOLISH 

Some one has said the difference between 
a wise man and a fool is that wise men make 
mistakes while fools make blunders. 

Fs astonishing how little wise people know 
about some things and how much fools (so 
called) know about some other things. 

For as a rule some "smarts" are fools 
And so-called fools have bits of knowledge. 
• A man with brains may be insane 
And some with few may teach in college. ^ 
'N *"°^You could soon read and look 
All through the first book, 
But Methuselah himself could not read the 
other. 



If you talk your trouble, 
You make it double, 

It grows each time you hit it; 
Then let it lie, and let it sleep, 
A record of it do not keep, 

Some time you may forget it. 

^Ij 



If all that I know was written in one book 
And all I don't know was written in. aaoth^r, 



OF A CHAIN OP THOUGHt 99 

MEMORY 

Memory and imagination hold in man's 
possession the irches of the past and the glory 
of the future. Without the aid of memory the 
things of the past would lie buried in the dead 
sea of f orgetf ulness. Life, love and joy would 
slumber in the deep, dark grave together. Wis- 
dom shorn of her locks would stand and stam- 
mer with the senseless jabber of the fool. 

Memory like a looking glass, 
An image brings of things that pass, 
From childhood's bright and pleasant day 
Till age's twilight dim and gray. 

Some things so bright they make us glad. 
Some things so dark they make us sad. 
As days, and years, come back again 
Like gathered links in life's long chain. 

We see where love assumed its part. 
The ruling passion of the heart. 
Where eye met eye, and smile met smile 
Laughed and lingered just a while. 

We watch and see the shadows pass 
As autumn frosts change meadow grass. 
As North winds through the forest call 
And make the trembling dead leaf fall. 



100 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

The breath grows hot— the pulse runs high ; 
Pale grows the cheek — dim grows the eye. 
The thin lips close— to speak no more, 
Death brings repose, when life is o'er. 

Hope built with bated breath her wall 
And now in death she sees it fall. 
But hope can live and Hope can save 
For Hope is stronger than the grave. 



AT SIXTY-SEVEN 

This is December 7, 1920. Sixty-seven 
years ago today I took my place among men 
and things in life. 

To sleep, to wake, to laugh, to sigh, 

To live, to labor, then to die. 

The thought of death is not so sad, ■ 

The sting of death is not so bad, " ' 

It's but the place where God will pay 

The blessings back, time takes away. 

The gate of mercy and of love | 

That ope's to better things above 

Where we shall live, and know, and see 

The blessings of eternity. 



Long sermons serve as ani-fat — they re- 
duce the size of the congregation. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 101 

THE WILL AND THE WAY 

There is an old saying that "Where there 
is a will there is a way"— but I must frankly 
confess that it is much easier to find the "will" 
than the "way." 

For different people in our days 

Thwart and block each other's ways. 

Some want this and some want that, 

And o'er the same, they have a spat. 

Mr. Fear and Mrs. Humble both think it 
it bad. 

Mr. Snort and Mr. Grumble both get mad. 

Mrs. "Nerves" and Mrs. Fidget both have 
a fit, 

Mr. Slow and Mr. Stingy both stop and 
quit. 

So there you are, stuck up in the Slough 
of Despondency, unless Mr. Great Heart and 
old Sister Never-Fail give the thing a new 
start and make it prevail. 



When we look into God's book 
Three kinds of promises are given ; 
One speaks of earth on which we dwell, 
V/hile others promise naught but hell; 
The bright ones promise heaven. 



102 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

NATURE'S VOICE 

A lesson heed from the tiny seed — 
That rests in the mother earth, 
As it patiently waits to germinate, 
And gives to the plant a birth. 

Then patience learn— from the plant in turn 

As it stands from hour to hour 

Through day and night — through shade and 

light, 
For the bud to form a flower. 

Then it waits again — through sun and rain 
While the days creep on so slow, 
For nature's power — to change the flower 
And make the ripe fruit grow. 

So let us know, as seed we sow 

In the world's broad field today; 

To bide the hour ; to wait God's power — 

Take God and nature's way. 

The seed will sprout, the plant grow out, 
And then will bloom the flower. 
When days have passed we'll find at last 
Fruit in the golden hour. 



Three sweetest words to mortals given, 
Are words of Mother, Home and Heaven. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 103 

AT THE STATION 

Waiting at the station for the train, 
For the train that runs on the M. & N. A. 
Waiting at the depot for the train 
That's to come at 7:30 so they say. 

Waiting at the station while it rains. 
Rain falls from the clouds so cool and gray, 
Others with me at the station now remain ; 
A very anxious crowd to move away. 

Just a common crowd of very common folks 
Like we meet most any common day; 
Some talk loud and tell their jokes; 
Some are timid, some feeble, old and gray. 

All have a common aim — to go 

A common wish — a wish to get away. 

In all the world we find it so, 

Man seeks a place — then wishes not to stay 

And so the world is on the move, 
Every soul seems anxious for to go ; 
Dissatisfaction makes us rove. 
And so the world moves to and fro. 

We are all waiting at the station for the train 
The train that is moving fast or slow; 
That will come despite the falling rain. 
The train of death that comes for all below. 



104 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

GOD'S WITNESS 

Psalms 14:1-9; Isaih 50:10 

Dead is the soul 
That finds no God 
In Nature's work both far and near, 

And blinded through 
This world doth plod ; 
God in his works is everywhere. 

Each bird that flies 
On feathered wing 
Doth sing for him a song of praise ; 

Each blade of grass 
That upward springs 
Doth speak the wonder of his ways. 

The stars of night 
With silver light 
In beauty on this dark world shine ; 

They seem to swing 

And shine and sing, 

The hand that made us is divine. 

The day of Hght, 
The calm of night, 
Declare the glory of the lord. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 105 

The earth and sky 
Both testify 
And tell of him with one accord. 

Above, below — 
Where'er we go, 
Where foot of man has ever trod, 

We never can 
Find aught but man 
To tell us that there is no God, 



■II- 



The stream of literature is fed 

On ideas from the thinking head. 

If all thinking brains should die 

Then the stream would soon drain dry. 

We are not rich by land or gold, 

But by the thoughts of life we hold. 



A life without a purpose, 
Like a ship without a sail, 
May drift into a harbor 
Known by the name of fail. 



■Il- 



A good man is ilke a good horse, he carries 
part of his recommendations in his own mouth. 



106 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE HALF LOAF 

When some folks can't get what they want 
they are unwilling to take what they can get. 
I find a good rule by which to get what I want 
is always to want what I can get. Then I am 
not disappointed. When you can't get what 
you want, always seek to get the next best 
thing to it and make the best out of it you can. 
What at first appears to be a curse may prove 
; ) be a blessing. 

If you reach to get the whole, 

But can only get the half. 
Don't grunt and scold and vex your soul, 

But grin— if you can't laugh. 

If you strive to get the cow, 

But can only get the calf. 
Don't come to grief about the beef. 

Because its not worth half. 

Be patient, friend — wait — endure — 
Time will bring about the cure. 

This truth avow: you'll own a cow 
If you keep and feed your calf. 

The sweep of years will dry your tears, 

And you can gladly utter : 
I'm thankful now I have my cow 

To give me milk and butter. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 107 

HONESTY 

Give us time when honest toil 

On railroad lines and farming soil 

Shall in full measure get its pay ; 

When monied men will be content 

To make on it a just per cent, 

And all shall seek an honest way. 

When half the world won't cry in need 
Because the other half in greed 

Doth press them sore. 

When each the other's right shall view 
And ask for self just what is due, 
\_ ^nd nothing more. 

When free from burning lust of greed, 
No man the force of law will need, 
His hand to hold ; 

But when each shall treat the other 
As a neighbor, friend and brother 

Neath Rule of Gold. (Matt. 7:12). 



Some men are bad enough to cuss, 
Some men are mad enough to fuss, 
Some men are mad enough to cry. 
Some men are sad enough to sigh. 
Because our State has gone "bone dry." 



108 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

AT THE END OF DAY 

When the sun goes down in the distant west, 
'Mid clouds of purple and gold— to rest, 
And twilight shadows come silent and still, 
To spread night's mantle o'er valley and hill. 
And the evening breeze through the forest 

creeps 
To sing the fluttering leaves to sleep ; 
And the stars of light on the bending sky, 
Bid the day good-night as it passes by, 
And memory comes in her silent way 
To read the record of the bygone day, 
Oh ! then, can your soul to your conscience tell. 
That your thoughts were pure and your deeds 
were well ? 

p 



We live in a selfish world, we do 
Where selfish things are done. 
A f ev/ folks work for number 2 
But most for number one. 



•e- 



A spoiled egg never hatches , 
A dead hen never scratches. 
With all the women in the world, 
A man's a fool that batches. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 109 

THE LITTLE GIRL'S WISH 

A little girl sat in the evening glow, 
When the gilt of sun on the treetops show, 
To linger awhile and pass away 
As the eastern sky turns dull and gray — 

The little girl sings a plaintive song, 
While the twilight shadows creep along. 
With a longing look in her deep blue eyes 
She sings her song, then softly sighs. 

Down in her heart is hid away 
A lingering wish and we hear her say, 
But what she says — must we ever tell ? 
Or let you guess — would it be as well? 

Could such a wish breed any harm 
To such a child with her simple charm? 
Now promise me for sake of her mother 
You'll never tell her wish to another. 

And that for her own and her father's sake 
That your solemn pledge you will not break. 
Will you pledge by a razor red with rust 
That shaved a dead man last and "fust,'' 

Will you pledge by a screech owl on a post. 
That screeches away like a strangling ghost? 
Will you pledge by the coat that Judas wore. 
And the dog that licked the beggar's sore, 



110 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

The water that sloshed in Easern pool 
Where Balaam watered his talking mule, 
The brick in the witch of Endor^s jam 
And the wool that grew on "Collin's ram," 

The rein of the halter that held its holt 
Around the neck of "Thompson's colt," 
The Dead Sea where the body floats, 
And the field of "Carter" that grew the oats, 

The snow and the frost on the far north pole 
And "the fiddler's three of old King Cole." 
A mountain goat and a bull dog brave 
And the rabbit that creeps o'er a negro's grave 

If such a pledge you'll make to me 
Then listen and I will tell to thee 
Her childish wish, and what she said. 
She wished for a cup of milk and bread." 



p. 



Spring has come, gentle Annie 

And the grass now soon will grow. 

Unless winds come from Indiana 
And bring a freeze and snow. 



The man that falls in love with the girl be- 
cause she is a good dancer, puts more emphasis 
upon the heel than the head or heart 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 111 

SEASONS 

The new year comes a humming 
And the old a humming goe^s, 
While good old mother nature 
Has on her winter clothes; 

But she throws off her garments 
Made of frost and sleet and snow, 
When the Southwind starts to blowing, 
And the violets start to grow. 

When April weeps in showers 
And songbirds start to sing. 
When May hangs out her flowers 
And tells us it is Spring. 

While the whipporwill is singing 
To the shadows of the moon, 
Old nature comes a bringing 
Her leafy daughter, June. 

So here we stop our verses 
And here we change our tune, 
And listen to Jim Riley 
Sing a song "Knee Deep in June." 



■II- 



Some folks build the nest and then set on 
it until they hatch themselves a brood of 
troubles. 



112 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW 

Ring out the old year 
With its grief and its tears, 
Let it be buried 
With other dead years 

That have passed like a phantom, — 
Like ships in the night, 
With sunshine and shadows, 
With gloom and with light. 

Ring in the New Year 
With its lamps burning bright. 
Full of hope and good cheer 
x\nd love's radiant light. 

Let it unfold its treasure 
Of pleasure or pain. 
Let each get his measure 
Of sunshine and rain. 

Let the old take your sorrow. 
The sorrow now past; 
With Faith greet the morrow 
That's coming so fast. 

Ring out the old year 
With its sorrow and gloom ; 
Ring in the new year 
With its youth and its bloom. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 113 

OCTOBER 

A shortening of the days 

And a coolness of the night 

Tells us that summer stays 
No longer for his flight. 

He has packed his grip and left us 
With his sizzle and his grin 

Of heat and dust bereft us 

And other things that's been. 

He has gone. Yes he has left us, 
But he'll come back a^in, 

The cooing of the North wind, 
The chillness of the night. 

The purple in the tree tops 

And the sunset's brilliant light. 

The stars standing picket 
Up in the azure dome. 

And the drumming of the cricket 

On his little cricket drum. 
Sounding out from field and thicket — 

Tell us Autumn now has come. 



It's a good thing egotism doesn't affect the 
legs as well as the head, or there would be an 
army on crutches. 



114 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE NEW DAY 

Another night with shaded light 
From crescent moon and trembling star, 
That spread its veil o'er hill and dale 
And flung its shadows everywhere 

Has gone away from earth to stay. 
The sleeping world has waked again; 
The rosy morn — a new day born. 
Sweet mercy's gift — a brand new day. 

Start on your way — this brand new day 
With noble thoughts and soul of prayer. 
Let Faith sing out 'bove fear and doubt 
To pray and trust — will save from care. 

So when the sun its course has run 
And this day goes to come no more ; 
When you're asleep in shadows deep 
Angels guard you from their shore. 



A man may thirst for the life blood of his 
fellow man and still not be a patriot. Patriot- 
ism is one thing, murder is another. 



■II- 



The things men see most everywhere 
Are colored by the specks they wear. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 115 

DON'T WORRY 

We should not only pray for freedom from 
the impurities of sin; but freedom from the 
burden of weariness 

Go away, oh weariness 

With your cruel cross of "keers" 
That stoops the soul with dreariness 

And blinds the eyes with tears. 

Shine, oh Sun of cheerfulness 
And drive the clouds away ; 

Take from us our fearfulness 
And brighten up our day. 

II 



AUTUMN TIME OF YEAR 

The high wind sings 

As high winds do 
When the woods are brown, 

And the skies are blue. 

And the high wind's song 
In the woods we hear 

Is the song of the Autumn 
Time of year. 



116 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

The purple grapes 

In clusters swing 
Mid the yellow leaves, 

Where the wild vines cling. 

When such clusters do appear 
We know its Autumn's 
Time of year. 
On the gnarly gum 

Hang leaves dyed red 
In the blood of summer, 

Past and dead. 
The cold night dews, 

Dame Nature's tear 
Tell us it's Autumn's 

Time of year. 
The wild bird calls 

To its feathered mate. 
As they plume their flight 

To a warmer state. 
This note rings out; 

In the songs we hear 
That this is Autumn's 
i-^ Time of year. 
We welcome Autumn 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 117 

With yellow leaf, 
That makes the woods 

One golden sheaf. 
While Indian summer 

Doth appear 
A veil for the Autumn 

Time of year. 
It seems that nature 

Doth infold, 
In sun and woods 
A girt of gold. 

This girt of gold 

Doth not appear 
Only in Autumn's 

Time of year. 



■p. 



THE VOICE OF THE ACORN 

I stood beneath a forest tree ; 
The earth was brown, the wind was free, 
Some leaves were purple, some were gold ; 
Made so by Autumn's frost and cold. 

.4n acorn grew above my head, 
It fell to earth as if 'twere dead. 
I said to it, "Oh do you know 
You've had your time to live, to grow? 



118 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

But that short time soon passed on by 
And you have reached your time to die, 
You pass today as others must 
To perish in a grave of dust; 

Beneath your parent tree to rot, 
And by the world to be forgot." 
The acorn seemed alive and said, 
You judge me wrong, I am not dead. 

I am not here a grave to fill, 
But carry on my Master's will. 
Though I'm an acorn and am small 
And to the earth I had to fall ; 

It is the way ordained for me 
To grow and make a forest tree. 
My roots shall grasp the earth below. 
My branches toward the heavens grow. 

The sun shall crown me with its light. 
The moon shall dress me in its night , 
With silver laces decked with dew 
Like flashing diamonds brought to view. 

ni stand in beauty every spring. 
Like a daughter of a king, 
Dressed in royal robes of green. 
Standing as a forest queen. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 119 

My leafy garments will unfold 
Under Autumn's touch, to gold; 
Or in royal purples show 
In the Autumn's sunset glow. 

Birds of spring will come to me 
And will sing their songs of glee. 
Herds from out the grassy glade 
Will seek a shelter in my shade ; 

And by man's lips my name be blest 
While stopping in my shade to rest. 
Man may come and study me 
And learn a lesson from my tree. 

And like you the knowledge gain, 
That things may fall but rise again. 



THE LITTLE SCAMP 

A little boy sat in the morning sun, 
With his dog, and cat and his toy gun, 
While a red bird sung from a near-by bower; 
And a butterfly hung on a drooping flower; 

And a sunbeam shone as they sometimes do, 
Like a diamond gem in a drop of dew. 
The little boy talked to his dog and cat. 
And ran his gun through a hole in his hat 



120 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

And struck out his hand with all his power 
At the butterfly on the drooping flower. 
Then "muched" his dog and stroked his cat, 
And killed the butterfly with his hat; 

Then threw a rock which he chanced to see, 
At the singing bird in the near by tree; 
Jun ped onto the grass which near him grew 
And ruined the gem in the drop of dew. 

A barefooted boy we see him stand. 
As a ruling boy o'er all at hand, 
Whistling a tune as wild and free 
As the breath of June or the song of bee. 

You call him Ned, John, Jim or Coy, 
''His father's dread," or "his mother's joy." 
You can't destroy by blame or praise 
Or keep a boy from his boyish ways. 

Say v/hat you will, do all you can 
A boy is a boy-— he is not a man. 
And while he lives in his boyhood days 
He is sure to walk in his prankish ways. 

There is m^re joy in the song he sings 
Than the world puts into the crown of kings. 



Some folks in this world remain 

That seem to have more mouth than brain, 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 121 

JONAH 

I write to one and all 

Their attention to call 

To Jonaji who went out to sea. 

Let us talk about his life, 

His folly and his strife, 

The lesson may help you and me. 

The Lord gave him a call — 

He gave himself a fall 

When he tried his duty to shun; 

He struck a stormy gale, 

He struck a swimming whale, 

But he failed to strike any fun. 

And so it is today 

With him who runs away 

When God has work to be done; 

Before you take that route. 

You had better look about. 

Lest a whale catch you on the run. 

When Jonah heard the call 

He felt himself so small 

To do what the Lord wanted done, 

He thought he could not go. 

So he ran away, you know. 

Starting for Tarshish on a run. 

He had the cash to spare. 

So that he paid his fare. 

Men pay for what they get in sin — 



122 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

But money paid for wrong 
Can never help along, 
It's so now and ever has been. 
Jonah packed his grip 
And went aboard a ship, 
And on it he went sound asleep ; 
When he began to snore 
The wind began to roar, 
A storm was brewing on the deep. 
And while the storm did rage, 
The men of every age 
Began to tremble with alarm. 
They knew how it had been 
That God had punished sin, 
They were sure that sin had bred the storm. 
So they began to pray 
And cast their freight away 
Into the waters of the deep; 
But while they were working 
Jonah was a shirking, 
Doing nothing but sleep. 
The master came around. 
And caught him sleeping sound, 
But he woke him up right away; 
For Jonah opened his eyes 
When the captain said arise — 
Not only to arise, but pray. 
When Jonah with them got. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 123 

The seamen cast their lot 

In order to locate the blame ; 

So when they made the draw, 

Then everybody saw 

Jonah was guilty of the same. 

But Jonah never cried, 

Nor Jonah never tried 

To prove that from guilt he was free ; 

But as an honest Jew 

He told them what to do — 

To cast him over in the sea. 

The sailors being kind 

Sought hard some way to find 

Jonah and the ship both to keep ; 

They pulled on the oar 

To get the ship ashore. 

But had to cast him in the deep. 

For while they were rowing 

The wind kept a blowing, 

For the storm beat hard against them ; 

But when they cast him in 

As a punishment for sin, 

The storm gave way to a calm. 

Now God, who made the gale. 

Had also made the whale 

As big as whales had ever been; 

When Jonah left the boat 

He struck the fish's throat. 



124 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Which opened as he went right in. 

The whale then turned about 

And for Ninevah struck out, 

While poor Jonah three days stuck in; 

With sea weeds around his head, 

And a stomach for a bed. 

He thought and repented of his sin. 

He prayed and did yell 

From the belly oi Hell, 

The Lord heard his prayer and wailing; 

He prayed and did weep 

While he stayed in the deep. 

He cried when he got a "whale-ing." 

He thought he wouldn't pout 

If God would let him out, 

A better life he'd be living; 

He would cut out his pranks. 

And give the Lord his thanks, 

Serving with a voice of thanksgiving. 

When the whale reached the place 

Provided for by grace, 

He belched Brother Jonah on the land. 

When Jonah left the whale 

He struck out on the trail 

To do what the Lord did command. 

He traveled from the sea 

Right on to Nineveh, 

And loud to her people did call 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 125 

With message from the sky, 

Forty days and they must die, 

They heard and repented, one and all. 

Before the forty days 

They quit their wicked ways, 

Then the Lord their sins did forgive ; 

When forty days were fled 

Not one of them was dead, 

For the good Lord did let them live. 

When the folks never died, 

Poor Jonah felt he'd lied; 

Then he got blue and he pouted ; 

To the Lord he did cry. 

With a wish for to die. 

He told how first he had doubted. 

He knew the Lord so well 

His goodness he could tell. 

Although the Lord was in Heaven ; 

He knew how it had been 

When man forsook his sin 

That all such sins were forgiven. 

Jonah still was gritty. 

He went out from the city. 

Just out to the east a little ways ; 

Out where he went he made 

A booth to give him shade, 

To shield him from the sun's hot rays. 

The Lord to assuage his grief, 



126 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

And to give his soul relief, 

Grew for him a gourd for shade ; 

And though he had been mad, . 

The gourd shade made him glad, 

When God his mercy thus displayed. 

But Jonah as a fool 

Must still be kept in school, 

At least until the end of the term ; 

He sent a new teacher 

To teach this old preacher, 

The teacher he sent was a worm. 

But the worm did not shirk. 

It went and did its work, 

For worms and whales both obey; 

For none we find but man 

That kicks against God's plan. 

And from his work will run away. 

When Jonah looked around 

His gourd was on the ground, 

And he was left without a shade; 

He may wiggle and squirm. 

He's beaten by a worm. 

For worms sap the best plans laid. 

Poor Jonah found no fun 

In the hot burning sun. 

While the east wind beat on his head; 

His grief aloud he poured 

About his wilted gourd, 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 127 

Wishing to the Lord that he was dead. 

It is oft so with man 

When God upsets his plan, 

He grumbles and wishes to be dead; 

He wiggles and he squirms 

And quarrels with God and worms 

For want of wisc\om in his head. 

We should learn while we live 

God will take as well as give — 

He gives, he takes for the best; 

He may not show his plan 

In what is best for man, 

But trusting in his love we can rest. 

Another thing to know. 

That earthly pleasures grow 

As Jonah's gourd grew in a night; 

When given too much space. 

They rob us of much grace. 

When God takes away it is right. 

The pleasures of the day 

Must swiftly pass away. 

Only for a day are they given ; 

So do not set your heart 

On pleasures that depart, 

But set it on things of heaven. 

Let us learn as a rule. 

Affliction is a school, 

Through which God's mercy oft is sent; 



128 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

The hand of our own Lord 

Is on the wilted gourd, 

To cause us to think and repent. 

No doubt from that good day 

Old Jonah went his way, 

A wiser and a much better man ; 

The sea, the stormy gale, 

The worm, the gourd, the whale, 

Taught him submission to God's plan. 

His wisdom must be true. 

And best for me and you — 

His will and not ours should prevail; 

Let me tell you, dear man, 

Don't try to dodge His plan. 

Or he will put you in a whale. 



If you want to bore your friend, brag on 
yourself ; if you want to entertain your friend, 
brag on him. 



i 



Children's Department 



SCRAPS 



I like to please the kiddies, 

Those smiling little chaps 

That please and tease their mothers, 

And their fathers, too, perhaps. 

I like to write things snappy, 
Fixed up in chiming rhyme. 
Things to make them happy 
And have a pleasant time. 

Their dads may count it folly, 
Their mothers call it "stuff'' 
But when kids call it jolly. 
To me that's good enough. 

God bless the little kiddoes 
With romp, and laugh and curl. 
They hold Hfe's morning dew drops 
And the sunlight of the world. 



130 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

May those who read this book 
Do the very best they can, 
To be a pure good woman, 
Or a true and noble man. 






TfflS WORLD 

This old dirt world on which we whirl 
Is big and rough and round and funny, 
While one-half s covered up with night, 
The other half is bright and sunny. 

Some folks do spit right in its face, 
This disrespect so oft they've shown it; 
The earth they tjiink, was made for them, 
We all suspect they want to own it. 



If such a thing should come about. 
And earth to them was given, 
They'd make the other folks move out 
To either hell or heaven. 

This criticism may be tough, 
But it's the truth I've told them. 
One day of earth they'll get enough. 
But just enough to hold them. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 131 

THE FROG 

One day by the road set a big hop toad, 

Warming himself in the sun, 
Winking both his eyes and snapping at flies. 

And just having lots of fun 

Chasing the crickets into the thicket 

And making the jar fly skip, 
Snapping up a worm— making him squirm, 

Holding him firm in his grip. 

Children, cats and dogs, as well as hop frogs, 

May find an end to their joy; 
They may chance to run in a streak of fun 

On things that fun will destroy; 

So the big hop toad that set by the road 

To warm himself in the sun. 
Sure made a mistake that caused him to ache, 

And put an end to his fun ; 

He chanced to see a big bumble bee. 

And went for him in a trot, 
He gulped down the thing,head body and sting 

But soon his belly was hot. 

Be careful my boys in looking for joys. 
Be careful while you are young; 

Don't bother a thing that carries a sting, 
If you do you may get stung. 



132 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE MOON 

Science tells us that the moon is our near- 
est neighbor; that folks can't live on it be- 
cause it has neither air nor water; that the 
force of gravitation is just one-sixth as strong 
on the moon as on the earth, so that a stone 
thrown on the moon would go six times fur- 
ther than on the earth; and that if a man 
could jump three feet high on the earth that 
with the same effort he would jump 18 feet 
high on the moon. (Fll take Mr. Science's 
word for it and not try it.) That the moon 
travels around the earth every Lunar month 
which is 29 days, 12 hours, 44 minutes and 
seven-tenths of a second — that it takes just 
that precise time to revolve on its axes, so 
that the same side of the moon is always 
turned toward our earth. (Note I don't own 
all the earth if I do say OUR earth. 

So the back of the moon is like the back 
of our neck; a thing we can think about and 
talk about but never look at. Poets get moon- 
eyed and have funny thoughts caused by the 
v/ings of their imagination growing longer 
than the tail of their judgment. Martin Tup- 
per expressed his opinion that Hell is located 
in the moon. Perhaps the similarity of the 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 133 

description of the two places led him to that 
conclusion. (1) Neither one have cool air or 
drinking water. (2) Each is thought to be 
plentifully supplied with sulphur. 

But the thought don't fit in well— 
The thought of looking up to Hell; 
Such wild fancies have their birth 
With such thoughts as hell in earth. 

We have all been more or less acquainted 
with that naughty boy that burned brush on 
Sunday (.'^'o old Grandma Tradition says) and 
for such sinful act was snatched up, brush and 
all, to live in the moon — all alone. Don't you 
guess he laughs to see folks sailing around 
him in their airplanes. 

I said one night to the man in the moon, 
The man that we children see, 

Will you sing me a song with a silver tune 
Or a message send to me? 

Ju|^t sing or write on the scroll of the wind 
That fans the earth and sea, 

Of things that are — of things that's been, 
And send it down to me; 



134 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

You've been so strong, and lived so long, 
So many things you've learned, 

Since that old day you've gone away 
To pay for the brush you burned; 

Tell me about the place you live, 
Way up in the crook of the sky, 

Is it ever wet, up where you set 
Or is it always dry? 

The cool night breeze then shuffled the trees 
And a moon beam through them shown ; 

The beam through the tree whispered to me 
''I am his telephone:" 

You talk in my ear, and he will hear, 
Though lofty be his station. 

The message of light he gives tonight , 
Will be imagination. 

The man in the moon then answered soon, 

From his seat up in the skies. 
Don't faint nor fear, but stand and hear 
If you want to be wise ; 

Then go your way with what I say. 

Let others learn of you; . : 

Send out the truth to aged and youth, 
What is not false is true: 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 135 

If know you must, it's dry as dust, 

We have no rain nor river; 
It's dry and clear, and cold up here, 

Enough to make one shiver. 

We have no flood, we have no mud 

Upon our silver plain, 
No birds, no bees, no brooks, no trees 

For want of air, and rain ; 

I have no wife to bless my life, 

I have no son or daughters. 
No one to pull when I get full, 

Or when I spend my quarters; 

I spend my nights and send my light 
To help the folks out walking, 

I scrape no skies, nor tell no lies. 
Goodbye, I am done talking. 



COLD WEATHER 

If I could get myself together. 
Might write something on the weather. 
For la, la, la, such weather we've saw. 
Too cold to thaw in Arkansas. 



136 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

While the wind was blowing raw, 

You say "not saw," 

But "we have seen," 

Now, la, la, la, that's what I mean. 

When two blizzards freeze together, 
Then don't we like a bed of feather, 
Feathers plucked from off the goose, 
Soft and downy, warm, and loose; 

Too cold, too cold to stop and view them, 
Off your "duds" and jump into them; 
Pull your blankets close together, 
Shutting out the winter weather 

While it sleets and snows. 

Get your feet and nose 

Down between sheet and clothes 

Where they nearly meet half froze. 

There let them warm while the wind blows 
And the white snow snows 
And old mercury goes 
Down, down, goodness knows 

And takes a frozen doze on zero's toes. 
They'll bring no harm to break your 

charm 
Let the wind roar 'round chink and door, 
Let the snow pour down more and more, 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 137 

Lot the thermometer crawl under the floor 
Don't you turn o'er, keep still and snore, 
Keep still and warm 'neath slumber's 
charm. 



IT GOES WITH YOU 

You ride a horse a hundred miles. 
And when you stop to hitch 

You'll find his tail behind him. 
Ready for to switch. 

So with a mean and dirty man 
That goes from place to place ; 

When he stops and looks around 
He finds his own disgrace. 



THE WAY HOW 

Once there was a little boy 
That had to say a speech, 

And so he wrote a letter 

To a man who has to preach. 

Asking for a write-up speech 
That he might learn and say; 

Then the man who has to preach 
Did answer him this way: 



138 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Little boy, little boy, hear me now; 

You want to speak, and this is how: 
You just let your own mind act. 

Run down a subject, then walk back. 

Think on a subject, lad, 

Think on it every way. 
Then write what you have thought 

And then get up and say. 

The things you think with your own mind 

In either speech or letter, 
Will be a thing that you will find 

The folks will like the better. 

This is a bad war, Fll declare; 

Yet this old world has got her. 
With some men fighting in the air 

And some down under water. 



•II- 



DONT RUN YOUR NOSE INTO OTHER 
FOLK'S BUSINESS 

Let me tell you, little boys, 
About a boy that is 
That's living without joys 
With that sore nose of his 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 139 

Into other folk's ^'biz/' 
That little nose did poke 
And now they say that his 
Little nose is broke. 

When you read this letter 
You'll say without a doubt 
That boys will do better 
To keep their noses out 

Of other folks' business 
That do not them concern, 
That is one good lesson 
That everyone should learn 

So if you want to keep your nose 
And keep it as it is 
See, my boy, it never goes 
Into other folks' "biz." 



.||. 



WHY SOME FAIL 

It is oftimes the case that the slow plod- 
ding boy climbs higher on the ladder of at- 
tainment in life than the bright, peart boy. 
It's too often the case that the bright, peart 
boy gets "struck on himself," thinking he 
knows it all and that it is needless for him to 
strive or study to learn more. 



140 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

When a boy thinks he's witty, 
And a girl thinks she's pretty, 
They are very apt to fail 
At home or in the city. 

y 

Wisdom's only for the ones 
Who seek in life to learn it. 
Many boys in life that fail 
Wonder why they are defeated. 

The reason why they don't prevail 
Is because they are conceited. 



OLD WINTER 

You stern old king. 
Such cold you bring; 
You bold old thing, 
You hold a sting. 

We are knowing every year 
That you are going to appear. 
And while showing that we fear. 
You come blowing everywhere. 

For when you start to going, 
And put the north winds blowing, 
And set the clouds to snowing. 
And freeze the wild brooks flowing. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 141 

When you awake to tease us, 
Then you take and squeeze us; 
Then you shake and freeze us, 
We ache 'till you release us. 

Your awful breath it blows 
Like needles through our clothes; 
It crimson tips our nose 
And dips down to our toes. 

Your blizzards they roar, 
'Round chimney and door, 
Like wizards that snore 
With gizzards that's sore. 

They fall like a fleet. 
Bombarding with sleet 
Everything that they meet 
In forest and street. 

When your blizzards stop ripping. 
And the rains stop dripping, 
And the cold stops gripping, 
Then the folks start slipping. 

They slip at the shop. 
They slip at the mill, 
They slip when they stop 
Or try to stand still. 



142 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

They make a short stumble, 
They take a hard tumble; 
It makes them look humble 
They get up and grumble. 

They will not remain, 
They ^\ill trot home again, 
For they caught a strain 
That brought themi a pain. 

They start up the street 
All covered with sleet. 
Then out goes their feet 
And they take a seat. 

Not long do they ''set,'' 
The place they have met 
Is too cold and wet, 
They climb up and fret. 

They have a desire 
To draw up some nigher. 
Up to a good fire, 
Where they can get drier. 

By shop and by store, 

They hop as if sore; 

They stop never more 

Till they flop through the door. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 143 

They sit by the fire, 
And cry if a crier, 
Or lie if a liar , 
They sit and dry drier. 

They sniffle and sneeze. 
They cough and they wheeze. 
They shiver and freeze: 
Lagrippe's their disease. 

They grunt and they grin. 
They rub their hot shin, 
And wish for hot gin 
To warm them ag'in. 

If they could but slip 
One wee little sip, 
To help their sore hip 
And cure their old grippe. 

With deep angry tone. 
They murmer and moan. 
They grumble and groan 
And hate "the dry bone." 

With face crimson red, 
With pain in their head. 
They pace off to bed 
And grunt as half dead. 



144 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

With ginger tea sweet, 
Hot irons at their feet, 
'Tween blankets and sheet 
A snooze they soon meet. 

These things kill their pain, 
From heel up to brain, 
Their grippe can't remain. 
They are up well again. 

But winter you know. 
With you it's not so; 
You stay and you blow, 
With ice and with snow. 

While shivering and freezing. 
And shaking and sneezing, 
We think and we reason. 
Why have such a season. 

But some who seem knowing, 
Say freezing and snowing 
Gives soil better showing 
To keep the crops growing. 

And thus you are dressing 
Old earth with a blessing; 
Your cold is no evil. 
It kills the boll weevil. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 149 

"Oh, Mr. Owl, stop, who, who, who, 
You talk to me, I'll talk to you. 
Of your great wisdom oft Tve heard 
For you are known as a wise old bird, 

Noted for wisdom and for truth. 
So much needed by every youth. 
So of your judgment I've made choice. 
About my dress, also my voice. 

For every one that's talked of you 
Say that your judgment's wise and true. 
While through the woods I've passed along. 
The birds have praised my dress and song. 

They say with me is joined together 
Gift of song and gift of feather. 
That in the feathers I am dressed. 
While sweet songs warble from my breast. 

So I have flown a long, long way 
To hear my friend, what you may say. 
Knowing that I shall hear from you 
An honest statement just and true. 

Then spake the owl with solemn voice, 
"If it be true, truth is your choice. 
Then I shall feel at perfect ease 
To speak the truth, if truth will please. 



146 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE HORNET 

The hornet is a creature 
That two wings has got; 
You may have met the fellow 
Or sure you may have not. 

He is a \nnged creature; 
Like a bee, a head he's got. 
He keeps his front end moving 
And the other end red hot. 

He may meet you laughing 
But he will leave you sad. 
When he stops to tell you ''howdy." 
You will wish he never had. 

He leaves this bad imprtission 
On the mind of every friend, 

So they make the sad confession 
He's a splinter in one end. 

He's ?.s lively as a drummer, 
But never comes in winter; 
He only comes in summer, 
But he always brings his splinter. 

You may watch him at a distance. 
You may bait him with a fly; 
He T\ill hang on to a dead one. 
You can burn him 'till he'll die. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 147 

Don't ever try to pet him 
Nor seek to make him mad 
Nor let him back up on you 
Or you'll wish you never had. 



WINTER 

Old winter is coming 
With his old white beard, 
His cold thin whistle, 
In the woods is heard. 

The sun is running 
On a shorter route, 
On a ten-hour schedule. 
And his day is out. 

While the days grow shorter, 
The nights advance; 
That they may give 
The moon a chance 

To hang her lantern 
In the winter sky. 
To gild the snow clouds. 
As they pass by, 

And help the hunter 
So that he may see 
The big fat "possum" 
In the "simmon' tree. 



152 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

MRS. LASETER'S CAT 

The harvest moon that shines in June 
Makes bright the golden sheaf. 

The summer breeze among the trees 
Brings quiver to the leaf. 

But through it all my tears will fall, 
My comfort all has fled. 

The reason why I sign and sigh 
Is : My old cat is dead. 

The frisky mouse plays o'er the house 
A trap I'll have to fetch him. 

If Tobe were here I'd have no fear, 
For sure I know he'd ketch him. 

The summer sun its course will run. 
And then will come the fall, 

But what of that, for my old cat 
Will never come at all. 

Within my dreams sometimes it seems 
I hear old Tobe a purring 

It makes my heart with pleasure start 
I laugh aloud and scare him. 

Jay says to me, "Don't silly be. 

Although your heart is smitten. 

If you'll not cry. Gentlemen !, I'll try 
To hunt you up a kitten. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 145 

These things being true, 
We must put up with you, 
As we can't cure you, 
We'll grin and endure you. 



THE EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM 

Two peckerwoods desired a worm 
And set their day and sought him, 
But the first one from his roost 
Was the bird that caught him. 

The second one flew all around 
And then went back downhearted 
For the early bird had found 
The worm before he got started. 

So some nabobs without jobs 
Now set around down hearted. 
Some John or Bob got on the job 
Before they ever started. 

So if you want a job, my boy, 
Don't wait too long to hit it. 
The early bird sure gets the worm. 
Go early thou and get it. 



150 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

My dear young friend, Til say to you, 
Your feathers are a pretty blue, 
But the opinion of my mind, 
You have too many of one kind. 

So this opinion I express, 

You are too gaudy in your dress. 

Oft times I've heard you jay birds sing 

In frosty winter and in spring, 

ril say in truth, as truth's your choice, 
There is no music in your voice, 
At least no music comes to us. 
We only hear a noisy fuss, 

A fuss that no one can admire. 
Though rendered by a bird or choir. 
Some folks and birds would comfort bring 
If they but knew they cannot sing " 

The jay then ruffled up each feather, 
Then let them all fall down together. 
And to the owl she turned her back. 
And flitted from him through a crack. 

She cried, "I never saw a fowl 
Half so stupid as an owl." 
The old owl gave a kno^dng wink. 
Or rather we might say a blink, 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 151 

And said, 'The trouble with the jay- 
Are common troubles of our day, 
For many people now we find 
Who think, but do not know their mind. 

To find a truth they seem intent. 
While seeking but a compliment. 
But when the truth to them you tell 
It fails to please them very well. 

And like the poor proud hearted jay, 
Plain words of truth drive them away. 
So if to please such folks you try, 
You must flatter — you must lie/' 

But let me say to every youth. 
Let such go way — you tell the truth. 
Tell the truth and to it cling. 
Tell the truth in everything. 

For every bird is not a jay. 

And truth won't drive all folks away. 

Oft criticisms of a friend. 

Prove most helpful in the end, 

Unless we act the fooHsh jay 
And from their counsel turn away. 



148 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE OWL AND THE JAY 

A wise owl sat in a farmer's barn. 
He was there for shelter, not for corn. 
While some folks do of owls complain, 
One thing is true, they eat no grain. 

They dine on things not near so nice, 
Like snakes and lizzards, rats and mice, 
Chickens sometimes feed these creatures, 
But the same is true of preachers. 

In other things they act together. 
When both fly out all fuss and feather. 
All preachers need not raise a howl, 
It's only some that's like an owl. 

You flop and move when thus I punch, 
I'll stop and prove you're in the bunch. 
On this no more I have to say. 
Unless it's in some other way. 

I leave the preacher for the fowl, 
Turn to the jay bird and the owl. 
The owl looked wise as most owls do, 
Who blink their eyes and sing, who, who. 

He cried "Who, who comes here today?" 
"I do, I do," said a Blue Jay. 
The jay bird lit on a pile of hay, 
He bowed and spit and then did say^ 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 157 

That old black bear, 

With long black hair, 
Was happy as a bear can be, 

Making a feast 

For bird and beast 
In the butt of a hollow tree. 

He wrote them "Come 

When you hear my drum 
Go thumpity-thump-thump, thump, 

You come to me 

In the hollow tree 
By the side of the old gray stump.'* 

The day had come 

To beat the drum. 
It sounded most like thunder. 

From every way 

They came that day. 
To see them was a wonder. 

Great swarms of flies 

Of different size. 
And bees, and bugs and snails 

They eat the honey 

That cost no money 
And winked and wagged their tails. 



154 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

GROUND HOG DAY 

Away down by an old gum log 

In a low and sandy flat, 
In his den by the log 
Lived an old ground hog; 

Not only old but fat. 
There he spends his life, 
With his son and wife, 

Just like a sure enough man; 
They feast on roots. 
And hold disputes. 

And argue the best they can. 
It is no surprise, that the son is wise, 

For sons are oft that way; 
They think as a rule, their Dad^s a fool, 
If Dad don't think their way. 

It's no surprise, the son so wise. 
Would argue for his way. 
About autumn and spring and other things 

Among them the ground hog day. 
The young ones claim. 

That the day it came. 
When the calendar stood at 2; 
The old one said you young "sap head," 

That date will never do. 
When I was young the song they sung 

Was the day of Valentine; 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 155 

Our fathers talked 
And looked and walked, 

To see if the sun did shine. 
While the old one talked, 

The young one walked 
To the door and saw the sun ; 

He saw it and then 

Went in his den, 
And won't come out for fun. 

On Valentine, 

No sun did shine. 
When the old one reached his door ; 

So he walked out 

And walks about, 
And won't go back no more. 

Between the two. 

What will we do? 
Which one has the truth now got? 

The young one told 

The weather cold. 
But the old one tells it hot. 

It seems the weather 

Can't get together. 
Or agree upon the thing; 

One day will snow. 

The north wind blow. 
While the next day looks like spring. 



160 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Each bird and beast, 

While at this feast 
Dare dine upon the other. 

While men as kings 

May do such things, 
In so-called Christian nations, 

It's time, at least. 

For bird and beast 
To seek a higher station. 

The brown hawk said. 

With shake of head, 
^'Eagle, you have my feather; 

If there's no meat 

We cannot eat," 
So they flew off together. 

"Go to the air," 

Said old black bear; 
"There are guests enough without you. 

You want to fill 

Your greedy bill 
On murdered flesh about you." 

Said wolf to fox 

Upon his box. 
We also vote their ticket. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 153 

That brings relief and stops my grief 

To think about the kitten, 
But the old cat that caught the rat 

I'll never be fergittin.' 



TWO SIDES OF IT 

Said the old mother duck 
To the little duck-ee, 
"How you scatter your mud 
On yourself and on me! 

See that little chicken 
The Master has fed; 
No mud on him sticking 
And smooth is his head." 

"Oh, yes," said the duck-ee, 
"Your saying is true 
But he has a mother 
That isn't like you. 

She gave him his feathers 
So nice, and so red 
And gave him a comb 
To keep on his head. 

So what youVe been saying 
You had better take back, 
Or your child may go straying 
Away from your quack." 



158 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

And there were rats 

And dogs and cats, 
And little soft-furred mice 

That nodded their head 

For a piece of bread, 
While each one ate a slice. 

Most every bird 

Of which you've heard. 
Of every kind of feather, 

Dipped in their bill 

And ate their fill 
And talked about the weather. 

Old Mister Fox 

Stood on a box, 
And winked at Mr. Rooster. 

But said he, 

"You can't catch me 
Like your daddy "useter." 

The old wolf looked 

At Mister Sheep, 
And said, "I like good mutton.'' 

While Master Ram 

Took him a dram 
And fixed himself for buttin.' 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 159 

The hen and duck 

Went quack and cluck 
And looked at old grasshopper. 

Rooster and drake 

Their heads did shake, 
The sign each gave to stop her. 

The old red cow 

And old black sow 
Called out for slop and fodder. 

The old black bear 

Said, "ril declare. 
My friends, I haven't got 'er." 

Squirrel and rabbit. 

True to habit. 
Dined on nuts and grasses. 

The big raccoon 

With big black spoon 
Took honey for molasses. 

The little rat, 

With velvet hat, 
Squeaked, "Give me bread and cheese." 

The 'possum said, 

"I want no bread, 
But grapes and 'simmons, please." 



156 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

THE BEAR SUPPER 

A big black bear 

Lived in the wood, 
In the butt of a hollow tree. 

The bear in the wood 

Was noble and good, 
Much better than bears oft be. 

He said one day, 

"ril give a play 
And a feast of bread and honey, 

Where all can meet 

And all can eat 
Without a cost of money. 

The bear then wrote 

A friendly note 
To the fox and wolf and deer. 

To the sow and shoat 

And the billy-goat. 
And animals far and near. 

To birds and bees 

In forest trees, 
To cats and rats and moles, 

To things with wings 

And things with stings 
That live in nests and holes. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 161 

If there's no meat 

For us to eat, 
Wt'll go back to our thicket." 

"Good bye/' said all, 

Both great and small. 
"We do not wish to flout you, 

But we must say, 

Since your'e away 
We feel more safe without you." 

The rooster crowed, 

The red cow lowed, 
The black sow dropped her bristle; 

The guineas quack 

A loud pot-rack. 
And Bob-White gave a whistle. 

The old blue- jay 

Looked truly gay. 
The robins sang quite merry; 

Each felt as fine 

As if his wine 
Was made from peach and cherry. 

The bee, it said, 
r With drooping head, 
"I wish I were a singer. 



162 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

For since I came 

I'm filled with shame 
To think I brought my stinger. 

'Tm glad to say, 

From this good day 
ril try to make more honey." 

^That's better far," 

Said old black bear, 
"Than trying to make money." 

Said billy goat, 

In silly note, 
"Some men may call me mutton, 

But since I came 
I feel more tame, 
And less inclined to buttin\ " 
jfT. Up spake the mule, 
( Both calm and cool, 
"A truth to me is sticking. 

For now I feel 

ril use my heel 
For better things than kicking." 

"True," said the cow, 

"I'm like you now; 
At the same truth I'm looking. 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 163 

I will not scorn 
My natural horn, 
But try to do less hooking. 
^, / "I have no greed 
^ ' ' For extra feed, 
I need no dress of silk; 

ril serve a man 
The best I can, 
Not with my horns, but milk." 
,-. ... The rooster said, 

With down cast head, 
'That's truth the cow is lowing, 

I'll try to scratch 

More in my patch 
And do some less of crowing." 

Said old black bear, 

'1 do declare 
You've been a bunch of sinners. 

But go your way 

From this good day 
And start as new beginners. 

"The soul that feeds 

On selfish greed 
And seeks to wreck his brother, 



164 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

May gather pelf 
But curse himself 
While cursing of another. 

''Now go/' said he, 
"And happy be 
And write to me a letter 

And let me hear 
From far and near 
Thatall are living better." 

f /: "We will," said they, 
"And any day 
You want us all to come, sir, 

To have a feast 
As bird and beast. 
Just tap upon your drum, sir." 



THE PESKY FLY 

Summer's coming by and by 

To bring the pesky humming fly 
To scratch our nose and speck our pie, 

And when we try to take a nap 
Then he'll come along perhaps 

And stick his toes down in our nose 
Up to his knees and make us sneeze. 

Then we will sigh and say, "Oh fly, 
I wish you'd go away and die.'* 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 165 

EARLY INFLUENCES 

A pebble in a rivulet cast, 

May change the current of a river, 
A germ within an acorn blast, 

And dwarf the growing oak forever . 

So seeming trifles oftimes prove 

The bane that poisons life's own river, 

What man mighv term a sin in germ 
May blast his life tree on forever. 

As twigs are bent so trees incline, 

The crook still in the body showing. 

And errors caught in childhood time 
In after life is oft found growing. 

So watch your seed before you sow. 

For evil starts when starts the sowing; 

If evil seeds fall in your land. 

An evil crop will soon be growing. 



All of us poor mortals made up of blood and 

bones. 
Live in frail glass houses, therefore should 

not throw stones ; 
If we should ask for mercy, then mercy we 

should show. 
For when we come to reaping, we reap just 

what we sow. 



166 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

EDUCATION 

Education has been called the "Hand maid 
of Religion"— Religion being the only thing 
in the world ranking above it — It is of such 
importance that it deserves, 

Thoughts from the wisest brains, 
Best words from tongue or pen 
To count its needs — and gains 
In the lives of living men. 

Henry Ward Beecher said: 

''Education is the knowledge of how to 
use the whole of oneself. 

Men are like knives with many blades; 
they know how to open one and only one; all 
the rest are buried in the handle, and they 
are no better than thev would have been, 
made with but one blade. Many men use but 
one or twa faculties out of the score with 
which they are endowed. 

A man is educated who knows how to 
make a tool of every faculty — how to open it 
— how to keep it sharp and how to apply it to 
all practical purposes.'' 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 167 

The eye for vision, the ear for sound 

To know the nature of things when found 

Things in the ocean, or earth or sky. 

To mark their motion and the reason why. 

We are put into this world to know things 

and do things. Education is finding out the 
things we ought to know, so as to be better 
able to do the things we ought to do. 

Education is not to shield people from 
labor, and help them be a drone in the human 
bee hive. 

We should seek an education, 
Not in order for to shirk 
But with an aspiration 
That it helps us do our work. 

The school is to man what the grind stone 
is to the ax or the file is to the saw. 

It does not supply the metal nor make 
the tool — but only fits it to do beter work. 

Education is not, so much the putting of 
things into our lives as it is the bringing out 
of them, things put there by nature. 

It has therefore been compared to an in- 
cubator that does not put the bird into 
the egg shell but develops and brings out the 
one nature has put in. 



168 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

No incubator now in use 
Can hatch an eagle from a goose. 
For nature never made such thing 
As goose egg holding eagle's wing. 

But nature has arranged through grace 
For everything a fitting place, 
And though the goose may never iiy 
Like an eagle in the sky, 

There is one place where she beats him 
And that one place is in the swim. 
No living man — no training school 
Can make a wise man of a fool, 

But as an ax with metal soft 
Can be improved by grinding oft, 
So people with a feeble brain 
May study hard and get some gain. 

A ''Book read fool" may be a curse 
A bookless fool is much the worse. 
The young who will not go to school 
Seeks by choice to be a fool. 

For in this age of educational progress 
and educational advantages, the young man 
that wastes his time and opportunities and 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 169 

fails to get an education will find in his com- 
ing years that Esau-like he has sold his 
birthright for a mess of pottage. He will find 
himself. 

Like a wagon without wheels 

That must drag instead of run, 

Like a hunter mid his game 

Without a trap or gun. 

He may sigh or he may sing, 

He may try to climb or cling. 

But he stands a helpless thing. 

Like a bee without a sting. 

Like a kite without a string. 

Although the wind may strongly blow 

He can never rise nor go. 

He's a bird without a wing, 

He's a poor and helpless thing. 

The time has been when good excuses 
could be offered for illiteracy — ^but that time 
has passed — Today schools and colleges — sup- 
ported by public funds are in reach of all our 
young people. So that every young man or 
woman having an ambition to know some- 
thing — Do something and be something, may 
gratify that ambition. 

The time has come when no door of op- 
portunity will open to the uneducated. 



170 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

The world will say to such 
There is nothing in you, 
There is nothing to you. 

If you had ambition or energy you would 
have gone to school. 

The road that leads to the land of failure 
is a very broad one and is crowded with many 
travelers. 

It is paved with whiskey bpttles and 
clouded with cigarette smoke. 

The dance hall — the idler's seat, the gam- 
bler's den line the way. 

Young people if you don't wish to fail 
keep off that route. 

Don't spend your money, 

Don't spend your time 

On things of folly, 

Or things of crime. 

Don't think that men are made of clothes. 

Or life is made of picture shows, 

Don't be a loafer nor with them set 

Nor burn your brains in a cigarette, 

The world has better things for you; 

Seek to find them and be true. 

One of the greatest lessons a person ever 
learned — is self-dependence. No one should 



OF A CHAIN OF THOUGHT 171 

willingly become a parasite or be a mistletoe 
and depend on another life to support them. 

James A. Garfield said: 

"Poverty is uncomfortable as I can testi- 
fy; but nine times out of ten the best thing 
that can happen to a young man is to be toss- 
ed overboard and compelled to sink or swim 
for himself. In all my acquaintance I never 
knew a man to be drowned who was worth 
the saving." 

The world is full of opportunities. There 
is work for all who are wilHng to do it. 

There is plowing and sowing, 
There is reaping and mowing^ 
There is boiling and baking, 
There is mending and making. 
For John and for Lizzie, 
To keep them both busy. 

So every young person's motto should be 
to work to learn while learning to work. 

Every one should cherish lofty ideals — 
Hitch your wagon to a star, and seek to drive 
your team up there. For folks never live 
above their ideals — they who seek for noth- 
ing will find all they seek for. 



172 ONE HUNDRED LINKS 

Character is the only thing we gather in 
this world that we can carry with us beyond 
the grave — Let us be careful then in its for- 
mation. 

Put in your life things good to last. 
Waste not your moments as they go ; 
The life to come when this is past 
Will yield the harvest here we sow. 
To sow good seed be thou intent 
Seek to be rich in thought and deed, 
Lest coming years make you repent 
When you shall reap but thorn and weed. 
God helps the soul that helps itself; 
The sluggard sleeps outside his fold. 
Sell not your birthright then for pelf 
When you may turn it into gold. 



INDEX 



Action 42 

April 27 

Arkansas 52 

A New Law 69 

Autumn 74 

At Sixty-four 79 

American Poet, the 85 

At the Depot 92 

At Sixty-Seven . 100 

At the Station 103 

At the End of Day 108 

Autumn Time of Year 115 

Beauty ... 14 

Birthday Gifts 60 

Birthday Gift 34 

Birth of Day __ 7 

Blind Men's Elephant 46 

Chain of Thought 5 

Cold Weather 135 

December 59 

Don't Act the Fool 45 

Different Tastes 80 

Don't Worry 115 

Don't Run Your Nose Into Other Folk's 

Business 138 

Each Life Holds Within Itself 59 

Early Influences 165 

Education 166 

Equinox 26 

End of the Year, the 56 



INDEX 

Fate or God 12 

February 27 

Field of Life, the 10 

Four Stages~of Life, the 49 

Fussy 51 

Give Me a Country Home 8 

Ground Hog Day 154 

Goody-Goody Man, the 58 

God's Witness 104 

Home 63 

Honesty 107 

It Goes With You 137 

Jonah 121 

Life 55 

Life Like a Tree 91 

Let Him Go 80 

Little Girl's Wish, the _109 

Luck 78 

Man Up a Tree, the 15 

May 30 

Memory 99 

Mrs. Laseter's Cat .. 152 

Nature's Voice 102 

October 113 

Our Country's Mission 37 

Old Tattler, the 63 

October's Middle 70 

Our Uncle Sam 71 

On the Picture of Robert Browning 72 

Old Winter 76 

Old Winter __140 

Patience 41 

Poets 5)6 

Pure in Heart 54 



INDEX 

Power of Thought in Words 28 

Science — True and False 42 

Scraps — _129 

Seasons 111 

September 95 

Sixty-third Birthday 32 

Sixty-fifth Birthday 83 

Spring 9 

Superstition 53 

Smile 58 

Sunset - 97 

Talents A 61 

That Friend of Mine 29 

The Bear Supper 156 

The Boosters 88 

The Incubator 46 

The Devil's Honey 96 

The Early Bird Gets the Worm 145 

The Frog 131 

The Half Loaf 106 

The Hornet 146 

The Little Scamp 119 

The Moon __132 

The New Day 114 

The Owl and the Jay 148 

The Old Year and the New 112 

The Pesky Fly 164 

The Simple Life 93 

The Way How 137 

The Will and the Way 101 

The Wise and Foolish 98 

They 25 

This World 130 

Things We Sometimes Hear 90 



INDEX 

Time's New Year Gift 61 

Thoughts on Thanksgiving 81 

Twlight Hour, the 70 

Two Sides of It 153 

Voice of the Acorn, the 117 

We Hope 29 

Weights and Wings 68 

Welcome 97 

Winter 147 

Wit 57 

Why? __ 35 

Why I Write __— 6 

Why Some Fail 139 



NOTES OF CORRECTION 

When you come to an ink red cross in reading 
it denotes something incorrect on that page. 
Look in these notes for same number of page 
and you will find the correction. 

PAGE 14— BEAUTY. 

This poem written in 35 lines should have 
been printed in stanzas of 5 lines each. 

PAGE 18 — The third line on this page is left out 
It should read: 

For in wrath a Jew would wax 
When he had to pay his tax. 

PAGE 42 — The fifth and sixth lines in "Action" 
should be read as a couplet, thus: 

*'Why gather thoughts from books or school 
Then turn away and act the fool." 

PAGE 97— "SUNSET" Should have been print- 
ed in 4 lines stanza's instead of 6 lines. 

PAGE 98. Two pieces on this page are jumbl- 
ed together. Beginning at red line read as 
follows : 

If all I knew was written in one book 
And all I don't know was written in another 
You could soon read and look through the first 

book, 
But Methuselah himself could not read the 

other. 



PAGE 107 Should have been printed in 6 line 
stanzas instead of 4 lines. See bracket. 

PAGE 113— "OCTOBER" Should be divided at 
red line into two 10 line stanzas. 

PAGE 116— "AUTUMN TIME OF YEAR" 

Should have been printed in 8 line stanzas. 
Each stanza ending with "Autumn Time of 
Year." 

PAGE 140 — Two lines left out of first stanza. 
It should read. 

Wisdom's not so plentiful 
That anyone should bum it. 
Wisdom's only for the ones 
Who seek in life to learn it. 

PAGE 160 — Two lines are left out in stanza at 
top of this page. It should read. 

"Each bird and beast while at this feast 

Must act the part of brother 
No bird nor beast while at this feats 
Must dine upon the other. 
From this stanza on, the last three lines in 
each verse coupled with the first 3 lines of the 
following verse form the correct stanzas. See 
bracket for example. 



